All In Time
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: Five years ago one of them left without a goodbye. Five years later, they return. Five years can change a person. A change can be good. A change can be bad. But change is change, and we all go through it. RATING CHANGED
1. Present

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD Also this is prolly gonna be only three chapters or so... We'll see.

**Extra Note: **Also, please please please comment. It helps me know if you all like this or not and whether I should even care to continue with it (I mean I probably will anyway, but some feedback would still be loved!) Another thing. I apologize for any OOCness that any of the characters display, OK? I'm trying. And as for spelling and grammer errors, again, I'm sorry. I try to fix those AFTER I'm done so I don't worry about them.

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><p><strong>July 18, 2016<strong>

The streets of Santa Fe were hot. The sun was high and beating down as much as it could through the tall buildings. Homeless men and women crowded the shade as citizens ran by. Some late for work, others trying to catch a cab. And some for their own, possibly dark, maybe even lighter, reasons. Everyone seemed to be in a frenzy. Everyone except a muscular blonde male, lazily leaning against a statue outside the Santa Fe Museum of Fine Arts.

He looked like your average everyday Joe. He leaned quietly against the wall, texting whoever, and simply looking like he was waiting for someone. Which he was. Only, the person he was waiting for didn't know he was waiting.

"Got anything?" he calmly murmured, not even looking like his mouth was moving, as he continued to act calm and collected. However, if one had walked by, they might think he was talking to himself. No one would be able to see the small earpiece in right ear.

On the other end of the feed, a wary and almost worn, voice answered back. "Nothing. It doesn't look like it's going to happen today. Might be tonight. A common thief would steal at night, you know?" A small smile spread across his handsome face, as another voice cut in. "Dude, never underestimate a thief. End up dead. Besides, I'd hit it in daylight. Less security, less preparation. Easy pickings."

The other male growled, and the blonde male had to keep himself from straight out laughing. "Oh I forgot I'm working with the leading expert on uncommon anomalies of crimes. Don't try to get slick with me, wiseass! Not all crooks are as psychotic as you!"

The blonde male made to comment and calm the two down, when the signal of the alarms of the museum, began to blink on his wrist. Acting with quick reflexes and speed, he began a quick jog into the building as it began to go into lock-down. The museum director, a small mousy man named Dr. Yale who had hired them and was friends with their boss, looked ready to break down and weep, as he allowed his security guards to lead him and Chance to where the culprit should be held down.

In his ear, his oldest friend stated that cameras were out. Damn. Whoever this was, they were good. Guerrero was a pro at hiding video cameras and mics. Speeding ahead, he ran to the vault where the prize was. The museum was in charge of the exhibit for "The Black Crow", a lack, priceless, diamond found and crafted for an Egyptian queen, to be in the shape of a crow, the remaining pieces placed in her necklace, which was also on display. They would be worth a fortune if someone had taken them.

That was why Dr. Yale had asked their boss for their protection. Someone had tried to steal them. Twice. And they had left typed out notes, stating they'd return. That was what puzzled him and his colleges. Why leave a note? It was like the thief wanted to get caught... And if that was the case, why?

He watched the security guards quickly turn and unlock the vault, waiting, ready, for anyone to be behind the large metal door. As the door flew open, his wary sounding college announced that the cameras were back on, and-

"-No one was inside."

The vault was empty of any person, any human. Nothing was moved. The Black Crow and the necklace were still placed perfectly where they had been. Not a stone out of place. The only thing new to the room, was a simple folded piece of paper about the size of a small get well card. Cautiously, he walked up to the note and easily plucked it from the stand, opening it.

Only eight words were written in dark red on the paper. _"You'll need to be faster than that, Chance.", _he read aloud. Under the piece of paper was a smiling face winking with a big opened mouth, cartoon, smile.

Looking at the smile, he took a picture of the image, and relayed it to Guerrero and Winston, his mind in disbelief. There was only one person he knew who left smiling cartoon faces on their notes like this. Only one person that came to mind. Someone he hadn't heard from in five years.

"Dude...!" his friend groaned in surprise and disbelief. "No way!" his wary pal exclaimed. "It can't be! I know they are not this stupid!" He made to retort his opinion, when he heard his phone go off. Looking at the caller ID, he flipped open his phone and answered.

"Ilsa?" he was surprised. His boss knew they were on a mission. Had Dr. Yale already gotten a hold of her and told her of the note? "Mr. Chance. I'll need you, Mr. Guerrero, and Mr. Winston to return," Ilsa sounded dazed and awed. "We have a very.. Important guest."

After that she hung up. But as she was hanging up, she heard another voice in the background. A familiar but older sounding voice. He looked at his phone, and quickly stuffed it into his pocket. "Time to find out if it really is who we think it is, guys. Meet me up front, Guerrero."

He quickly told Dr. Yale that they may have a lead on the prankster thief, before leaving him and his guards in confusion, as he ran outside to Guerrero and his 1976 Chevrolet Camaro, quickly sliding into the front seat.

"You think it's _her_?" he asked as they peeled down the roads. He watched his friend grip the wheel and could see his knuckles turning white. If this was who they thought it was, then they were in some serious trouble. Guerrero didn't trust a lot of people. So it was rare to end up in his circle of trust, especially as fast as their old college and friend had. But it had become more than that for him. He'd come to care for their safety and well being, even if he didn't show it.

If this was who they all thought it was, then he prayed they had a good explanation for their five year absence and leaving without so much as a word, and disappearing off the face of the earth to the point that not even Guerrero could find them.

"Don't know, dude," he finally answered, sounding casual to any outside. But he could tell that he was foaming. He didn't like loose ends. Their friend leaving had been a tick in his paranoid ways. He always kept tabs on his people, and now one had slipped under his radar in the haze of the setting sun five years ago.

When they finally approached the building, a black van pulled up as they were getting out. The van quickly shut off, and out stepped a large black male, Winston, looking as in disbelief as the rest of them. He had more history with the possible guest. If anyone should deserve to show their hurt and frustration, it had been him. They made it to the elevator, and quickly headed up, all preparing for the possibility of their assumptions being correct.

As the doors binged open, the first person they found was a tall male at around six and a half feet. His eyes were a dark blue-green, and his hair was short and wild, spiked and swished. He was dressed in a white wife-beater, dark jeans with a large Texas belt, and black boots. He was crouched in front of Carmine, rubbing across the dogs back and stomach and head, giving the dog attention. He glanced lazily over at the elevator, slowly standing and ruffling the dogs furry head, before giving a casual wave.

"Hey Chance, Winston, Guerrero, " he chuckled in his slight Irish brogue. "It's been a long time." Chance blinked his surprise, as the other male reached out and shook his head and pat his shoulder. "Silas Veder?" Winston spoke up, looking flabbergasted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Silas grinned and pat Carmine's head as the dog stumbled by to gain attention from his owner, who ruffled his head and scratched behind his ears, keeping his eyes on Silas. "Ah, don't mind me. I just came here to drop my student off. She's been real excited to see you all again." He nudged his head to Ilsa's office, and instantly Chance turned to the office.

Sitting with Ilsa was a young woman with a shapely form and long brunette hair and brown-green eyes. She was wearing a simple pair of shorts for the hot weather, and a dark gray, silver studded, tank top under a denemin, short sleeved, jacket and matching gray flip-flops. Her hair was in a low ponytail, and she wore a simple leather bracelet as she nodded and chatted with Ilsa, a form of profession and calm.

Chance shook his head in disbelief, as he watched the brunette stand and shake hands with Ilsa, a professional but kind smile on her lips as she exited the office, instantly being greeted by Carmine, happy to see his old friend. She scratched his ears and grinned at him.

"Holy hell," she commented, speaking for the first time in front of the shocked males. "I'm still surprised he's alive. He has gotta be hitting 20 in dog years." Silas shrugged, as he walked to the elevator and removed a large duffel bag that had been pressed up against the wall, dropping it in front of her. "Dogs can live a long life if they're taken care of, lass."

She looked at the bags and picked them up and pulled them over her head. "You heading out?" she asked him, ignoring the way the males watched her like a hawk, crossing her arms lazily. Silas gave a small smile and ruffled her hair. "Aiy! Gotta be in France by tomorrow our time. Gotta see you-know-who, otherwise they'll have my head," he chuckled, before reaching to grab his bag and pat her on the shoulder. "Keep in touch, stick to your training, and no dieing."

She smirked. "I'll try." She waved goodbye to Silas as he pat Chance and the others on the back as he walked by and stepped into the elevator, before disappearing behind the door. Leaving Winston, Chance, and Guerrero staring in disbelief.

She smiled at them, acting as if she saw them everyday for the last five years. "What's up?" That was all it took for Winston to snap, catching Chance off guard. "Ames!" he bellowed. "Where the hell have you been?"

**R & R**


	2. Past and Present

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD Also this is prolly gonna be only three chapters or so... We'll see.

**Authoress Extra Note: **I really like writing Ames for some reason.. She's fun to me and I'd have liked to see her character grow and change if the season had continued. Also, awwww! Thanks for the nice comments cedricsowner and veniceit! They made me smile and made me feel bad cause I don't know if I'll live up to the expectation ya'll have set for this fic, but aww thanks :D

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><p><strong>July 18, 2011<strong>

Oh man that is so not good!

Ames was a fast runner. She had years of practice running from cops and the nuns of her orphanage when she was in trouble. She had even done track for five years of her youth. She was also quick at finding quicker routes through the city. Contrary to Guerrero's constant belittling, she had lived on the streets, had experienced a hard time, and did know most of what she was doing when it came to getting around.

Her breathing was even and slow, as she ran up to where Chance was. She needed to warn him! Her earpiece was cutting out and she didn't have time to text him! It was a straight out trap! The bad guy wasn't in the building at all! It was a decoy! They were waiting for Chance to come in to try and save little Alice Bloom, daughter of wealthy fashion designer Paula Bloom and rookie race-car driver Owen Bloom. Only she was in the building two blocks down.

"Chance!" she hissed, letting him know she was there. He turned his head in surprise and looked ready to tell her to duck, when bullets started flying! Shit! They'd seen them early! Shit shit shit! "Ames! Get down!" She'd barely had time to catch the order, when Chance had tackled her down, grunting as a bullet caught his leg!

He hissed above her, and still in pain, he rolled over and shot, hitting their shooter it seemed, for the bullets instantly stopped. Chance fell on his back and grit his teeth, as Ames tried to sit up. "Ames, what are you doing? You were told to stay back with Ilsa and the Bloom's!"

Ames waved off his obvious disbelief at her actions. "It's a trap! I heard his goons talking, they walked right past my position! They have Alice in a buildings two blocks down!" she shook her head and let out a puff of air "Wow! That was totally insane..."

After quickly using a piece of his shirt to tie up the bullet wound on his leg, Chance hobbled to his feet and helped her up as well. "I appreciate the information Ames, but you could have gotten me and you hurt. You should have relayed it to Winston or Guerrero..." he trailed off as he picked up his gun and reloaded it.

Ames shook her head. "You would have been inside by the time I got to th-" Chance cut her off. "Possibly, but I would have been able to get out still. This was reckless." Ames felt a sting at his words. Chance had always been the one who had encouraged her crazy acts, because he himself performed them... And yet now he was getting onto her for it? Was it because he had gotten shot?

Ame stood quietly as Chance talked into his earpiece, informing Winston and Guerrero of her presence and her news. She barely payed attention, as Chance told her to stay and wait for Guerrero to pick her up in the Camero, before he made mad dash around the corner towards the building Ames had pointed to, leaving her alone. Sighing, she shook her head and leaned against the building. Again! They were doing it again. They were treating her like... Like some child! OK, so she hadn't been at this kind of thing as long as them, but she had some skill! How could she prove herself if they were just going to keep-!

"That was pretty reckless, alright," a voice to her left caused her to jump off the wall, and whip her head to their direction, eyes wide. "But not stupid. Just not well thought up. Did you just think you could sneak up to him and give him the bad news and everyone would be safe and OK? You could have been shot. You had no gun to protect yourself. And even if you did, I get the feeling you couldn't shoot the broad side of a well lit barn, aiy?"

Ames stared dumbfounded, as an attractive male stepped out of a parked car she could have sworn had been abandoned. His hair was long and wild. He was tan, and wearing a simple black muscle shirt and jeans with a big buckle in the shape of a silver skull. Kinda tacky, especially with the black cowboy boots, but it worked on him.

"Uh.. Who are you?" Ames asked, befuddled at the mans sudden and random appearance. The male smiled and cautiously, but calmly, approached her. "Names Silas Veder. I'm an old college of your pals, Guerrero and Junior."

If that was suppose to calm her, it didn't. It actually just made her even more guarded. Guys from Chance and Guerrero's pasts tended to be really annoyingly bad and dangerous. He seemed to since her discomfort, and chuckled. "Easy. I'm not _that _kind of man anymore. If I can help it, at least," he stuffed his hands in his front pocket. "You're name is Ames, correct. Seems only fair we both know each others name, right?"

Ames nodded, letting herself slowly relax. If he wanted her dead, he could have done so and not have to reveal himself, right? She should be safe... Hopefully. "What do you want? If your looking for Chance, he went that way," she gestured to the building two blocks from where they stood. "And Guerrero is on his way to-" he cut her off. "I'm not here to see them. I heard of this case through a... 'Helpful'... Source of mine. Had come to check it out, when I witnessed your little attempt at heroine fun."

Ames scowled and crossed her arms. "It's just been an off day. I could have totally handled getting to Chance without those guys seeing me any other time." Silas gave her an amused smile, shrugging indifference. Ames scowled deeply. "Why are you still here, then, if you came to check out the case?"

Silas gave her an even look. "I was gonna leave you here and let you go on with your life, but... Truthfully, I think... That you could use my help." Ames's expression became that of confusion, a brow raised and head tilted. "Your help?" she began, crossing her arms. "Your help with what?"

He sighed. "Everything. Look, you're young and you have a lot to learn... But you aren't gonna learn it here. Not with Junior. He'll shield you too much-" Ames cut him off. "He doesn't go by that name anymore." He hated that name. The day she had asked him about the name, having "accidentally" come across it in Guerrero's briefcase when her and Ilsa had cracked it. He'd looked... Almost angry and lost and sad.

"My apologies," Silas chuckled, seeming amused. "Chance. Chance will continue to shield you. Just that little display was enough for me to read that your part of an obstacle to him." She felt her stomach churn. She knew he was right... But hearing it aloud sucked. To Chance, she knew, she was just a charity case. A chance for him to help her stray to a better path. And the others? To Winston she was just the same kid he had tried to help years ago. Just some punk.

Ilsa was the same. To her, like chance, she was a slight case for her. She may have had her mistrust of Ames, but now Ilsa saw her as a new job for her and her deceased husbands foundation. And Guerrero... To him... She was just the punk JV. Nothing. A waist of time and his space. No matter how many times she'd helped him, had helped the team... She was just an extra hand that nobody really wanted, but dealt with.

She slouched and hugged herself just slightly. She was startled when a large warm hand found her shoulder. "I can change that," he mumbled, sympathy in his eyes. "Why? Why help me?" Ames grumbled. Silas chuckled. "Easy, lass. Cause everyone deserves a chance to show their stuff. Corny that may sound, but it's what I believe."

After that, she was hooked. He gave her a card with his cell number and told her if she made her choice, to come meet him at the west side peers with one bag of her belongings that she had to carefully choose, before he left her just as Guerrero showed up. She'd been able to hide the card and act like what happened hadn't.

But everyone knew something was up... Because she was quiet. The mission was complete and Alice was saved and safely returned to her parents, who couldn't thank Chance and his team enough. Alice, being only three, had a hard time letting go of her new friend Mr. Chance and the "funny looking Mr Guerrero", as she had giddily called him, as her parents scooped her close between them and said their goodbyes.

Ames had left right after them, doing her best to quickly and without being seen, clean out her locker into her bag, before heading home without so much as a goodbye. She'd packed her stuff and headed to the peers, deciding to take a bus instead of her car, leaving everything at her small rented apartment, paying out the next five months with the check Ilsa had given her.

**o0o**

**July 18, 2016**

"And you just left, not knowing anything about this guy? He could have been a psychotic mass murder or worse! He may not have even really known Chance or Guerrero! What were you thinking?"

Ames drank her second cup of tea offered by Ilsa, smiling as Winston stormed back and forth, ranting and hissing. She knew he'd be mad. She knew they all would. But it was too late to do anything about it. Five years had gone by already, and nothing she said would bring that time back and delete her absence.

"It wasn't smart, no," Ames cut in, stopping his next wave of ranting. "I realize that now. I knew nothing about him. All he said could have been a lie, and I could be dead right now. But I'm not. It's all over with. I left because I wasn't going to get the training I wanted and needed here, and don't look at me like that Chance, you know it's true." She fixed the older male with a look as he'd made a small gesture to cut her off at that opinion.

It was the truth, and he knew it. None of them were going to take her serious. She needed someone who would and that had been Silas. She was grateful to him. He'd changed her for the better. She didn't feel weak or lost anymore. She understood things now, knew code words better. And she was faster and stronger. Her body had adjusted and her skin had hardened. She wasn't a burden. She could now be a true member of the team.

Ilsa and Guerrero, surprisingly, remained pretty quiet as she talked. Chance had asked her a few questions about what all she know knew and how her training went. She'd been happy to tell him, and she could tell he was slightly impressed that she had survived some of the methods she mentioned. "Falling down the side of Mt. Fujiyama had to be the worse," Ames finished. "I dislocated my leg and left shoulder blade as I went down and caught myself on a large rock jutting out of the side. It took Silas almost a week to find me and help jam them back into place." She rotated her shoulder as she talked, recalling how relieved and proud she'd been to survive.

"I don't understand the purpose of such a test," Ilsa sighed, as she sat her cup down. "It's a test of climate and failed situation survival," Chance answered. Ames nodded. "And it's helped me out greatly, I can promise you that. Especially the fighting and immobilizing training," she grinned at Chance and then glanced at Guerrero, "I could probably take you two down... Not together, but separate."

At this Chance chuckled, a boyish grin appearing. "Don't get cocky, Ames. Five years of training is a start, but you've still got a lot to be taught." Ames frowned, inwardly foaming. That made her mad. There it was. That useless feeling. He was doing it again. No way! "I'll prove it," Ames stood up and gestured him towards his training mat he still had out from his morning exercises. Chance blinked in surprise, as she walked over to the mat and slid off her jacket, revealing more of her back, lines of scars big and small seen peeking out from behind the material of her tank-top, which she pulled off and now stood in her shorts and a sports bra.

She felt them all staring at her back, which now revealed more scars than they thought. She sat her jacket and top on the back of the couch, facing them. Her stomach was taunt and hard, her arms and leg muscles hard and ready, as she waited for him to come over.

"Ames I'm not fighting you," Chance sighed, holding up his hands in surrender, keeping his distance. Ames popped her arms and legs and grinned. "You wont hurt me. Silas would come at me full force. You can do the same." Chance furrowed his brows, before shaking his head and sighing in defeat, heading over to the mat, kicking his shoes off and away after untying them quickly.

He stepped onto the mat, and Ames could see his unsureness. "Trust me, Chance. You wont hurt me," she promised, keeping eye contact with him to reassure his worried expression. "Mr. Chance, Miss Ames... I'm not comfortable with this!" Ilsa exclaimed finally, standing up and looking between them as Chance put up his defenses, though Ames could see he wasn't being full serious at the moment. Annoying! That really bugged her.

"Come on, boss," Guerrero cut in. leaning against the arm of chair he sat in, his eyes on them. "Let see how much JV has learned." JV! He was still seriously gonna call her that? She was twenty-seven years old and almost fully trained now. She'd free fallen into the grand canyon, swam in shark waters, had her head slammed into walls and floors multiple times, got her ribs broken three or more times by a kick boxer, and now knew fifteen different ways to take down an opponent! She was no damn JV anymore!

She scowled and lowered her stance, but did her best to stay calm and push away her annoyance for now. Letting out a low, steady, breath of air, she narrowed her eyes and made the first move, charging forward to swing her foot at his head, her leg stretching up. He went to grab her leg, only for her to swing it down so that she was now in his space, throwing her first out to catch him in the chest and hook up for his face, only to have her fist caught and be twisted quickly behind her back as he went to slam her down.

Ames quickly wrapped her legs around his and used her stomach and legs to flip him over her and twist to be on top of him, pinning his arms behind him and pushing him into the mat. However, Chance was bigger than her, and had more muscles and training, so she was unprepared for him to be able to ram his elbow back, even with hi arm secure, hard into her inner thigh, catching her off guard and throwing her back as her grip loosened.

As soon as her back hit the mat, Chance was holding her down with his left arm pinning her upper chest down, and pinning her legs. She made to swipe up at his face, but she found he was pressing his weight down to keep her in place. Thinking as fast as she could, she made to thrust her body and her head forward, ramming it into his chin, causing his grip and weight to lessen, and her to free herself enough to sit up and try to slam him over, but found her legs were still trapped as she used his now unbuttoned shirt to pin his hands back, leaving them both trapped.

Ames and Chance starred at each other, before an amused and impressed grin spread across his face. She couldn't help but grin along with him, laughing, as Guerrero and Winston stared at them Ilsa looking shocked, as they pulled apart from each other. "I'm impressed, Ames," Chance finally said, as they helped each other to their feet. Ames popped her arms and shoulders with a smile, sweat on her tan brow. Her muscles felt stretched, but in a good way. Chance was good. He was winning, even if she had pinned him. But what could she expect. He hadn't used full out force with her, so of course it had seemed easier than it should have been.

"Why'd you go easy on me?" Chance gave her a sheepish smile but simply shrugged. She shook her head and walked to her bag, picking through it until she found a sweat rag to wipe her face with, her body slowly coming down from the small rush she'd gotten out of that.

Silence fell between her and the others, as Chance and Guerrero shared a glance. "Miss Ames," Ilsa finally spook up, approaching her. "While I am most glad to have you return to us safely, a matter must be discussed of you leaving without properly telling anyone of your absence. In a normal working environment, not showing up for five years would have you fired," Ilsa locked eyes with the younger woman, "my question is; what do you plan to do now?"

Ames tilted her head slightly and sighed. "I was hoping to return and be a part of the team again, but if my service isn't needed, I could go freelancing... Course I'm more worried about finding an apartment. I had to get my stuff moved to a shed after my lease was up," she shrugged and pulled her tank-top back on.

"Well," Chance fuax sighed, "you could crash here. You know, until you find a place. I got no problem with you returning... Course," he glanced at Ilsa, "it's up to the boss." Ames smiled slightly, and turned to Ilsa. "I know me leaving without properly saying goodbye and all that was wrong, but that's in the past. I just wanna get on with my future.. And I'd like to do that back here with... With my family..." It was cheesy, but true. They were all like her family. Admittedly a messed up and strange family, but family none the less.

Ilsa sighed, trying to look annoyed, but smiled none the less. "Very well. It would be a pleasure to have you back. I could use some more feminine touches around here besides myself." Ames chuckled and nodded. "I think I can handle that... But I have one request," she looked at all of them, mostly locking eyes with Guerrero, knowing he was the one that was going to be the most trouble to deal with. "No more calling me and treating me like a JV. Let me help for real. Let me be out there working with all of you. No more treating me like a charity case kid, OK?"

Chance shifted in slight discomfort in her peripheral vision, but she kept herself trained on Guerrero. He was the one who was worse at not letting her do more. He'd always treated her like a burden and nuisance and now she wasn't going to stand for that. He kept his gaze even with hers, as Winston cut in finally. "We'll try... It's gonna be a hell of a lot for us to adjust to, Ames... But we'll try."

Ames finally looked away from the older male and smiled at her taller friend. "That's good enough for now." Ilsa stepped forward. Yes but something else must be discussed as well, miss Ames," Ilsa held up a note with a non to pleased expression. "I believe Dr. Yale would sleep better if he knew the museum was no longer being... Pranked... By a highly trained thief."

Ames chuckled, and reached in her back pocket to pull out her iPhone. "I was just trying to get everyone's attention, relax...But OK, I'll make one last call and make him think he was just being tested and he passed and I'll never bother him again." Ilsa's lip twitched just slightly into a small smile, but never the less keep a stern expression.

"See that you do."

**R & R. **

**Sorry if this makes no sense! I warned you! :P Also, no close update until I can get the next chapter to work out for me, caus eit's not writing how I want it to -Glares at the chapter-**


	3. Mixing the Time

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD Also this is prolly gonna be only three chapters or so... We'll see.

**Authoress Extra Note: **Wow... OK, so... This fic isn't going at all how I'd planned it xD See, I let my mind go slightly blank when I write, so it's just my fingers pretty much doing the work... If that makes any sense :/ So a lot of times even I'm not fully sure what I've written... I certainly didn't see this coming. So if it's OOC, I apologize. I tried. Also! My caps bar is glitching on me badly. Not sure what is wrong, but it's not letting me space sometimes. So I apologize for the possibility of any meshed words. I tried to go back and fix them all.

Also, awww, more nice reviews! Thanks cedricsowner, veniceiet, and niagaraweasel! You all make me smile I still hopeIm doing this story justice for ya.

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><p><strong>July 18th and 19th, 2016<strong>

It was getting dark. She'd been up all day and was tired... But couldn't sleep.

After getting herself settled into a guest room of Chance's upstairs penthouse, she'd went back downstairs to find Ilsa and Winston had left. She'd glanced at the clock to see it was seven, so she wasn't to surprised. What she was surprised of, was finding Chance and Guerrero lazily sprawled on the couch, PlayStation three controllers in hand, and _Mortal Kombat vs. DC_ on the screen and a large bottle of scotch being shared between them.

Ames smiled in amusement, and climbed over the couch to settle between them and watch. "All settled in?" Chance asked, lazily moving the controller and his character across the screen to Guerrero's, striking at him. "Yep," she answered, grabbing the scotch bottle and taking a small swig. "Dude, not cool," she sputtered as Guerrero pulled the bottle from her. "Hey! W-What was that for? I'm old enough to drink," she scowled, wiping the alcohol from her chin, sounding like her younger self. "Yeah but not to drink mine. Gotta earn that."

Chance chuckled, as she chucked a pillow at her old teacher, which he caught easily, but cussed as his character was taken down by Chances. "Dude! Totally cheating! Not cool," Guerrero scowled as the second round started up, quickly going in for the defensive offensive kill, as Chance laughed and kept his character at the ready.

This went on for the next six hours, both parties tied and on their last fight. They were all bordering on drunk, Ames having went to grab a bottle from Chance's collection, pissing Guerrero off by helping Chance win a good chunk of the matches. For the last match, Chance had decided to play as as Scorpion and Guerrero, much to her and Chance's amusement, had picked Catwoman. "What, dude? She's hot and kicks major ass," he'd defended, scowling as they continued to chuckle as the fight began.

Ames took a heavy swig of the Jack Daniels bottle in her hand, smirking as she stood up and climbed over the back, stumbling just a little. "Can't hold your liquor, shouldn't drink, dude," Guerrero muttered, pounding his thumbs and fingers on the controller. Ames flipped him off dismissively, swaying and making her way into the kitchen to put the bottle up. If she drank anymore, she was going to wake up with a hang over and she so wasn't in the mood for that.

Hungry, she began poking through the cabinets, grinning as she found a can of Pizza flavored _Pringles. _Popping open the can, she happily munched on the chips, making her way back into the living-room in time to see Guerrero win. "Told you do. She kicks ass," he explained, as Chance grumbled in defeat, throwing his hands up and dropping the controller before turning the game station and TV off.

Ames leaned against the kitchen doorway to keep herself steady, as she watched Chance pat Carmine's head as the old dog sat at his owners feet, starring up at him with droopy eyes. "You should totally look into getting him a girlfriend to knock up," Ames pointed to Carmine, before grabbing another chip. "He's getting along. You could so let him knock up another dog and get cute baby Carmine's." She grinned as the old dog hobbled over to her and licked his maw, before she gave him a chip to munch on.

"Ah, he's fine. He's still young," Chance said quickly. Ames pat the dogs large head and gave the older male a sympathetic frown. Carmine was Chance's only living link to the deceased Katherine. He cared greatly for the old dog. She felt saddened by how much the dogs death was going to affect him. "I'm just saying it's never a bad thing. Keep the line of lazy cute dogs going, ya know?"

Chance walked around the couch to crouch in-front of the old dog and pat him all over. "He's fine,"Chance repeated again, more fiercely this time, looking at the dog with a lost look, as Carmine licked his old masters face affectionately. Chance smiled and nudged his forehead to the dogs head, before getting up and quietly heading for the stairs. "I'm going to bed," was all he said before he jogged up the stairs.

Ames watched him until she couldn't hear or see him anymore. "Word of advice," Guerrero began, as he wiped at his glasses. "learn to keep that big mouth and thoughts to yourself." Ames frowned, as Guerrero walked around the couch, pushing his glasses on his face. Even without them, Ames could see his eyes were just slightly glazed, though he was doing a damn good job of trying to cover it up.

"I was only saying that Carmine could still make kids and he'd be able to leave behind another friend for Chance," Ames grumbled, startled at the dark expression that flashed across Guerrero's face. "It's not the dog, dude," he seemed to growl, "it's the memory with it. Another dog wouldn't be the same."

He was right. Carmine held the memory of Katherine Walters alive. A proof that she had been real. When he died, it would, to Chance, mean that Katherine had fully passed on and he had truly lost her. "That's depressing," Ames whispered, looking down at the Rottweiler, who had curled up and fallen asleep by the couch.

"His choice, dude."

Ames nodded, but still felt bad. She had never put into thought Chances past, but now that she was..She couldn't help but feel for him and feel that she was becoming closer to the team. Sighing, she sat the _Pringles_ down. "I'm possibly drunk, I'm tired, and this shit is too heavy for me. I'm gonna crash," she made for the stairs but stopped. "What are you gonna do?"

She wasn't sure why she was asking. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to drive whatever he now drove around in. He was possibly drunker than her at the moment. She waited for an answer, but he ignored her and made for the kitchen.

She glared at his back, muttering "asshole", before heading upstairs to her temporary bedroom, stripping off her clothes and stepping into a dark pair of boy gym shorts and a black sports bra, pulling her hair out of its ponytail, before stumbling just slightly to the bathroom across the hall to brush her teeth and hair, letting it cascade against her back and on her shoulders.

As she swished the water around to clean the paste foam out of her mouth, out of the corner of her eye was movement. Spitting the water out and wiping at her mouth with a small towel, before throwing it into a laundry hamper (A laundry hamper in a bachelors bathroom? Ilsa. Ilsa had been here), she turned to find a shirtless Guerrero in a pair of black sweat pants and a glass and bottle of whiskey (which she recognized from snooping through Chances stuff, and was shocked to see it was already half empty).

That was odd. In the past, back when, on rare occasions, he would let her drink with him, she could recall that he kept himself limited and sober enough for his senses to still work properly. He was always so paranoid about that back then. Had that changed? It sure seemed it, because she had to wrinkle her nose at the strong alcohol and BO smell coming off him.

"You smell like shit," she finally commented, breaking the simple silence. Guerrero grunted and pushed past her to get into the closet behind her, his back to her. She couldn't help but stare at the fading scars and the blue butterfly tattoo. Back when she had first seen the tattoo, it had taken every ounce of her being to not ask about it. She wasn't dumb. She'd known what a tattoo like that meant to those who had been in prison.

He'd made it very, very, clear that he was never, ever, going back to prison. She had never inquired what had got him placed in prison, but she had been, and still was, curious. Winston wouldn't tell her, which was surprising that he even _knew _about Guerrero going to prison. "It's not a pretty story," the bigger male had grumbled, obviously sickened himself by the story. Ames had dropped it after that, but seeing it again made her curiosity all the more persistent.

"Don't ask," Guerrero cut into her thoughts, causing her to blink and realize that he was staring at her through the mirror, and that she had been staring to long at him. Looking away, she rinsed out her toothbrush and shook the water from it, before turning to try to leave, her exit blocked as she ran into the older male.

She sighed and looked up at him, startled as she looked into his eyes and saw something... Different. His normally emotionless eyes were swimming with them now. But they were flicking so fast, it was hard for her to process them all at once. Sadness, anger, pain, resentment, confusion... Lust? No, that last one had to have been a trick of her own eyes from the alcohol she had consumed herself. At the moment she wasn't as drunk as Guerrero, but her senses were far to dull to fully and truly process all that happened in front of her. So seeing something that hadn't happened was, yes, a possibility.

"Why did you leave?" His strong breath washed over her face, as he continued to block her exit. What was wrong with him? Why the sudden interest in her? When she had showed up he had treated her like some annoying kid (which wasn't any different from the old days) that he wanted to just go away. Now he was acting … Weird. It was like he wanted to say something, but couldn't form the words right.

Ames sighed. "I told you why I lef-" she stopped as, suddenly, she was forced back as Guerrero shut the bathroom door, and blocked it with his body. He didn't lock it. He just stood in-front of it and was staring at her. "No bullshit answer, Ames," he grumbled, startling her. It was rare for him to use her actual name. "Why did you leave. Full answer. Truth. Now."

His words were slurred. It was getting more noticeable as she stared at him, her arms crossed lazily against her chest. "What do you want me to say," she sighed. "I told you everything, Guerrero. I left because you and the others wouldn't take me seriously and I needed to improve myself. I was a dumb, cocky, kid. I was just getting in the way and I talked to much. Silas helped me. You all wouldn't and he stepped in. That's it."

She could see his body stiffen at Silas's name, and she sudden;y recalled exactly why Silas had told her he'd left his old life and the others. Why he believed Guerrero hated him; and he really did hate him. She could see it in his eyes. "They have kids now," Ames whispered, seeing his jaw tightened, opening up that she knew something of his past. "A boy and girl; twins. Aden and Serenity."

She could see so much pain and anger flickering in his glazed, bright blue, eyes now. It was so foreign for her to see this many emotions come from him. Change happened to everyone in time. You could fight it, but over the years, little by little, you change. She had. And, from what she was seeing, maybe Guerrero had as well.

"You saw her?" his voice was raw and almost sandpaper like. She nodded. "Yeah... She doesn't work anymore. She writes children books now. She's a stay at home mom..." her voice trailed off as she recalled the woman of there discussion. Blonde hair, light eyes, fair skin, curvy; and pretty dangerous when provoked.

Guerrero's shoulders slumped slightly, and he didn't move. She prayed he was going to let her out now. She was really tired, and all this was just giving her a headache. At least he wasn't a fist drunk like Brody was. God she couldn't even count how many fights she'd been in because of that maniac.

"Why did you leave," he asked again, pulling her from her thoughts. She groaned. Guerrero was a broken record drunk. Fucking wonderful. "I told you, Guer-" She was cut off as suddenly, startlingly, he slammed his fist down on the sink counter, the sound of all his knuckles cracking sending a sick shiver up her spine. God she hated that sound. "Dude! Stop lying. I may be drunk but I'm not stupid, Ames."

Ames shifted in her spot, as he opened and closed his possibly broken fist and stared at her. "Answer, now," he ordered, and Ames, much to her horror, felt her younger, cockier, side poke out as she whispered. "Or else what?"

His expression darkened as he pushed forward, and she, annoyingly, stepped back once, before catching herself and stopping. No1 Don't back down! Stand firm, dammit! He may be 'The Guerrero, King of Torture', but she wasn't that cocky, stupid and younger, Ames anymore. She wasn't going to back down from him anymore; even if it was have her dead at the bottom of the ocean.

He was now in her face, close. It seemed that, sober or drunk, Guerrero, when interrogating or threatening, would get close and personal for discomfort. It was working. She felt wary of being this close to him while he was this drunk and unpredictable. Sober she might be able to prepare herself. Drunk, Guerrero was almost a whole other, open, person.

She could smell him. His alcohol coated breath. The sweat from the alcohol in his system. The cologne he used. The faint smell of bleach and copper; blood. And an almost faint, unnoticeable smell of cookies and crayons. His sons touch. He was looking in her eyes, as he growled, swaying slightly on his feet. "Why?" was all he aid, his voice low.

"Why do you want to know so badly," she asked, keeping her eyes on his. Why did he? What did it matter. Hell, it had taken her three of her five year absence to discover why else she had left them. He didn't need to know. But he wanted to, and he wanted to badly. Why? "Why is it so important? I left. What does knowing the other reason do for you?"

He continued to lock eyes with her as best as his condition would allow. His face was close to hers. It made her heart thump like a quickly beaten drum against her chest. She had to fight the quiver through her body and voice as she spoke, as she looked at him. "Why?"he repeated again, ignoring her questions.

She stared deep into his eyes as best as she could now. There was a new, just noticed, tension in the room that she felt fully seep into her system as she slowly parted her mouth, her lips moving to answer him; to tell him what she hadn't wanted him to know. "Because of you," she whispered, seeing his eyes darken. "I left because of you."

**R&R**

**Wow. I thought this was going to take forever, but once I found my flow again, everything went back... And I'm sure by now you all are giving me this "WTFingF" look, ight? It's OK. I understand.**

**Next chapter will be started up tomorrow hopefully and published soon.**


	4. Roll Back the Clock

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **Stupid space bar is still glitchy glitchy, so again, I apologize for any meshing words I miss out on. And I think I can now say that this will be about one more chapter long after this one. I really wasn't intending on making this story longer than three, but my creative fairy went crazy on me, so now it'll probably end by chapter five... Maybe... :P

Thankies very much, once again,to cedricsowner, veniceiet, niagaraweasel, and Englishrose2011! Your reviews fueled me to continue and actually stick with the story instead of fully dropping it... Yaaay!

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><p><strong>August 1st, 2014<strong>

"That wasn't smart of you. I hope you realize that, hun."

Ames winced, staring at the burn on her shoulder. She was lucky it wasn't severe and that the explosion hadn't been any closer. One thing was for sure; she was no pyromaniac like Brody. She'd leave the explosions and large fires to him or someone more capable than herself. She lightly touched her arm as the older woman before her lightly worked at her applying the soothing, pain numbing, ointment.

She was an attractive woman; long blonde hair, blue-green eyes, a kind smile... And Silas's wife and mother of two children; twins. Twins who were currently on the floor playing with blocks. A small dark haired boy with his mothers eyes and a little girl with blonde hair and fathers eyes. Little Aden and Serenity Veder, who Ames loved dearly and was protective of when she needed to be. Along with their mother, who finally finished patching up her arm with the ointment.

"There we go," she sighed, smiling and shutting the bottle of ointment before placing it in her dark blue medical bag. "You should be OK. No severe damage to the skin, so no scaring should occur. If it starts to burn or itch, come find me or go to Silas and we'll put more ointment on it, OK?" Ames sighed and nodded,a sheepish smile. "Thanks again, Kidahi... I really messed up, didn't I?"

Kidahi Veder chuckled softly. "It happens to all of us. Although you've improved a lot since you came with Silas, you're still learning. And you possibly always will. We've all been at this for a long time and even we make our mistakes." By we, Kidahi had been referring to her and Silas and Chance and Guerrero.

Ame's shoulders slumped as she thought of her old team. She missed them. Silas had told her that she may contact them anytime, so long as she used the untraceable new iPhone he'd had costume made for her after her last phone he had used to rig into a makeshift bomb...But she was afraid to. She didn't understand why, though. Hadn't she left to prove she could change for the better? To prove she could be just as useful if given then chance? Calling them would show that she was surviving. But she couldn't do it.

"You miss them, don't you," Kidahi cut into Ames's thoughts, causing her to tilt her head. "How did you-" Kidahi cut her off. "I know what it's like to work with Chance and Guerrero, Ames. They grow on you. And Winston, the one time I meet him, may be a bit grouchy, but he's also kind and protective. Like a big grouchy... A big grouchy bear."

Ames snorted at the image of Winston dressed as a bear, as she stood and stretched her limbs finally. She'd been sitting around for awhile and she'd started getting the twitching feet, something that she now knew Chance must have had. It kept you alive, but it also kept you restless and rash if you didn't work on evening it out. That was what Silas was trying to teach her now. Self-control and knowing when you really couldn't do something.

And there she was thinking of the old group. Again. "Ugh," Ames sighed, rubbing at her temples with her fingers, "my mind lives in the past." She heard Kidahi chuckle as she walked by to pick up Aden, who was chewing contently on his stuffed black fox's nose, gurgling happily in his mothers arms. Ames picked up Serenity who like her brother, was chewing happily on a stuffed, white, fox with big blue eyes. Serenity giggled and pat at Ames's chest as she helped Kidahi walk them to the bathroom to give them their baths before bed.

"Thank-you," Kidahi laughed, as Serenity babbled at Ames, before her mother plucked her from the younger woman's arms and sat them both in the tub after stripping them off their diapers and dirty clothes, letting them splash and squeal in delight at the bubbles.

Ames grabbed their bath toys and gave them to the children, who grabbed them with their happy tubby fingers and splashed around. Ames smiled as the babbled to each other in delight. "Ever thought of having any of your own?" Kidahi asked, opening the closet in the hallway to pull out two towels and sit them on the sink counter. Ames scoffed. "No way," she laughed. "Besides. Having kids requires actually having a boyfriend or husband to work with, and I have neither or."

Kidahi raised a brow as Ames sat on the rug by the sink as Kidahi took to sitting on the shut toilet seat. "I seem to recall you once saying you knew a slew of boys that you found to be, what was it you said, major finds?" Ames snorted and grinned at Kidahi. "Major fine a-s-s is more like it, but yeah I did once upon a time. But it never went anywhere, ya know. I don't know. I've become pretty picky about who I will or will not date."

Kidahi gave her a thoughtful look. "Perhaps it's because you've already found someone and you keep comparing the others to them." Ames furrowed her brow. "I don't think so..." Kidahi sighed, but she gave Ames a warm smile as she looked thoughtfully at the kids, who were now making bubbles fly everywhere, their little hands splashing happily. "Before I meet Silas, I was loved someone else. Did you know that?"

Ames looked up at the blonde, a curious twitch in her eyes. Kidahi continued. "Mmm. It's been a long time now. Ten years maybe," she chuckled. "God I feel old thinking back on this. I was younger and so was he. Dangerous. He was really dangerous. I knew Silas at the time, but not enough to give him another glance. I was so fixated on this man I had. Although we ran in the same circle, I knew he could easily kill me if he wanted to and I don't think I could stop him..."

Her voice trailed off, and instead of looking sad or fearful, she was instead calm and happy. "But I saw that he had other sides. He worked so hard to make this image of himself as this top notch dangerous assassin. And he was... But you can't really snuff out your feelings or thoughts," she looked at Ames with a sort of lost look, before looking at her hands resting on her lap. "He use to have nightmares. He'd scream in his sleep and cry. He was different then. It was like his humanity was angered for being forced down, and lashed out in the most painful way possible; in his mind."

Ames could see faint tears forming at the corner of Kidahi's eyes, and she felt that she was witnessing something private. That maybe she should snap her out of the thought, or leave her to think. But she didn't move. She simply sat and listened, sat and watched. "One night he got drunk. And his nightmares wouldn't leave him. Alcohol opens up everything. It can show who you are and what you fear. He was slipping in and out of reality and I tried to wake him... And he hit me."

Ames felt her stomach drop, her expression a look of horror. Kidahi continued, though,not looking upset at all."I wasn't mad at him for it. I was sad. I was sad because it was then I saw that I would never be able to help him. I wasn't the one who could soothe him. The one who could keep him happy. Because that strike was a show that he couldn't see me with his reality... I left him a year later, and meet Silas then."

Kidahi stood and grabbed one of the towels and softly and quietly picked up Aden, smiling as he cooed at his mother and babbled incoherently at her. Ames quietly got up and removed Serenity, helping get her dry and cleaned up, before following behind Kidahi as she walked to the kids room. She didn't say or think anything as she helped dress Serenity in her footsie pajamas, before putting her in her crib and turning on her mobile of phoenix's and mermaids, smiling as the small girl slowly began to relax and drift off.

Once both children were asleep, Ames followed Kidahi out and to the living-room, watching her turn on the baby monitor. "Do you ever see him, though?" Ames blurted, flinching slightly. That wasn't her business. Wasn't she suppose to work on keeping her mouth closed and learn self-control?

Kidahi's expression became mischief as she laughed softly. "Of course. Him and Silas don't get along, though. He... He partially blames Silas for me leaving. And him and Silas don't have a good record together anyway." Ames's curiosity was dancing and itching, as she opened her mouth to ask. "Who-What was his name?"

Kidahi's smile widened as she chuckled. "Think about something Ames. Who's one of the most dangerous men you know who gives off this emotionless, sometimes cruel, vibe?" Ames's brows furrowed and she pondered the question, trying to grasp at what seemed so simple... Only to let out a gasp of disbelief, her eyes widening as she shook her head. "No, freakin, way!"

The older woman burst into a laugh, doing her best to stifle it so she wouldn't wake the children. "Yes way, Ames. _Him_." Ames felt like a fish out of water as she processed it all, gaping in disbelief and eyes wide, before she just slouched down back into the armchair she had taken over. "He was a lot different back then, Ames," Kidahi sighed, looking a picture of relaxed. "He's different now, I know. But really, time changes us all... But not everything about us. I bet the old him I knew is still buried in this new man. Buried in this new Guerrero."

Kidahi reached out to grab the picture frame of her and Silas's wedding picture and opened up the back. Ames watched another picture fall out onto the table, before Kidahi picked it up and handed it to Ames. Ames was meet with a picture of a happy, smiling, and cocky grinning Guerrero next to a laughing and somewhat shy like Kidahi. They had to be early twenties or less, holding hands and close. This was Guerrero? This... This didn't remind her at all of the Guerrero she knew now. This was younger Guerreo with smiles and feelings and one who smiled.

"You remind me off him, you know?" Ames looked from the picture to Kidahi, a puzzled expression. "He use to be so easy to provoke and mess with. He liked to talk, but he was shy and awkward about it. But he was also a lot smarter than people gave him credit for back then...I think that's why Silas likes you. Why he took you in."

Ames felt herself frown as she slide the picture onto the table and gave a bitter grunt. "Great... I'm just some charity case to him too." Kidahi shook her head. "No. You misunderstand, Ames," Kidahi began, picking up the picture. "You aren't a charity case at all. To Silas, you remind him of the old Guerrero... The one that was his friend. The one that use to help him get into fights that they didn't need. Your like a link to that past that was lost. Even though he knows you are you and not Guerrero, it's the feeling that he missed that draws him to train you"

Ames didn't know what to think of that. She wasn't Guerrero. She knew that and so did Silas it seemed... But she was a reminder of good times? Was she really like the old Guerrero? It seemed highly impossible... But so probable at the same time. Chance and Guerrero hadn't always been like they were. Like Kidahi had said, it took them years to become who she knew now... Was it the same for her? Was this a way of showing that someday she'd become like them?... Or was it showing her that yes she would follow their path... But she could do it her way?

Her head hurt now. This was all so confusing. Guerrero himself was confusing. She'd known that since day one. When he gave her the creeps, she could still be drawn to him. When he was angry, she could still fear him but want to know more and see more of that anger. He was so just... Ugh, just confusing to her! Geez, of course she'd be in love with a nut job brain fucker-!

Her thoughts came to a slamming halt. Her body numbed just slightly as she quickly grasped at what she just thought. Wait... Did she just say...What? No! Nooo! Hell no! She did not just... That's... Is she stupid? Her body locked up, and Kidahi frowned and looked worried. "Ames? Ames... Are you OK, hun?"

Ames couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Her brain was now a flash of all her times with Guerrero; all their conversations that she could recall. Where-When? When had she... He was hot, yes, but this? The "L" word? No... That wasn't right!

Kidahi, looking very concerned for Ames's sudden shut-down, quickly pushed from the couch to gently place her hand on Ames's shoulder. "Ames! Ames, come on, snap out of it, sweetie... Ames... Ames, tell me what's wrong, OK? Ames!" Her voice was forceful and concerned, and her face a mask of utter lost confusion for the younger girl.

Ames stared at Kidahi, looking confused and scared and hurt. Not him. It was like falling being Eve in the garden and staring at those forbidden apples in the tree. She knew she'd be hurt if she so much as plucked one from the tree branches... Yet couldn't stop the want to touch and taste. She was now Eve and Guerrero the apple that would seal her fate... A forbidden fruit.

She started to cry. She cried tears of frustration and pain. She cried and all Kidahi could do was stand and watch her young friend practically breakdown.

**R & R**

**Let me explain something. If any of you have ever fallen hard for someone, this makes more sense. Fallen for someone who was out of your reach. Someone impossible to touch because you'd be burned. It's like the good girl meets bad boy story. In truth,it's very very rare that it all works out. Because you are putting two people together who are opposites who need to find a balance. And balance isn't always something humans can achieve. **

**Ames liking Guerrero is one thing. Thinking him hot or attractive isn't bad. Hell even a one night stand if the two had one wouldn't kill. It's love that causes the problem. Because love is unfair and non judging. And you can find yourself loving the wrong thing that in the end could hurt you.**

**So I feel Ames's reaction is appropriate. -Shrug-**

**Anyway, will update soon. And next chapter may be the last and longest... Maybe xD**


	5. A Past Will Birth a Future

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **The last chapter was a bit eye opening random, huh? Well the point of this fic is to be so. Time is never really steady. People go back in time in their minds all the time, so in a way it's like time travel, right? And we learn better from the past cause we can see it better. While the future, that's what we fear and want. Man. I'm having fun with this fic and I hope you all are as well.

Once again, thank-you cedricsowner, veniceiet, niagaraweasel, and Englishrose2011 for taking the time to sit and read my fic. I know it's not the best, but I do feel grateful that at least someone out here on the HT fiction zone is giving the piece a try ^_^

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><p><strong>July 19th, 2016<strong>

_She stared deep into his eyes as best as she could now. There was a new, just noticed, tension in the room that she felt fully seep into her system as she slowly parted her mouth, her lips moving to answer him; to tell him what she hadn't wanted him to know. "Because of you," she whispered, seeing his eyes darken. "I left because of you."_

Ames sat in the shower on the floor, the water cascading down on her. It was cold. She'd been in the shower for hours now. Her fingers and skin raw from the cold water, wrinkling from the lengthy time. She'd barely slept. He'd just left her. He'd stared at her like she had slapped him, his eyes going back to their emotionless slate of ice, before he'd just left and holed himself in the other guest room.

She'd cried. She didn't know why, but all she could do then was cry. This wasn't how she'd wanted him to know... Hell, she hadn't wanted him to know at all! She'd decided after her breakdown at Kidahi and Silas's place, that telling him was not in her best interest. He had a family. A son. And even if him and Valarie, his ex-wife, were no longer together, it was still wrong.

No. Telling him wouldn't help her at all. And him? He would just scoff. Revoke her and laugh at her for her feelings. She was just the punk JV kid to him. And no amount of her growing and changing would change his thoughts. No... No she should have just kept it all to herself. Should have just shut off herself and let him threaten and throw his fit... But like her younger self, she had to go and open her mouth.

She curled tighter against herself and buried her face in her knees, shaking, trying to let her whole body just go numb to get rid of the lost feeling she now had. The pain. _"Too much of the same stories in our lives. I think it's time for change, don't you? Too much of the same stories in our lives. (I think it's time for us to walk away from here)!"_Ames jumped slightly as her cellphone went off, the familiar Trapt song telling her exactly who it was.

Shivering, Ames crawled out of the shower and dug through her pajamas to grab her phone, hitting the answer tab and holding the phone close to her wet ears and cheek. "Hey... What's up," she answered, her voice hoarse and words slightly stuttered as she wrapped a towel around her shivering form, turning off the shower.

"Ames! What is wrong with you? You get back and I don't even get a single phone call? I'm hurt!" The familiar and friendly voice of an old friend actually brought a smile to her face just crestfallen face, as she let out a cough of a laugh. "Sorry... It was a long trip back. I just got settled in last night." She heard a huff on the other side, but knew she wasn't in trouble. She would never be mad at Ames. They had to much history with each other,

"Hey... You OK?You sound kinda... Dead." Ames frowned. If _she _could already pick up on it just from a few words, then Ames must be looking and sounding worse than she thought. "Actually," Ames sighed, pushing her wet hair back and out of her face. "No, I don't feel so hot." She wouldn't lie to her. No reason to. Only four people knew of her feelings for Guerrero before this, and Ames knew she could trust her friend.

A sympathetic "oh" was whispered, before the phone shuffled a little. "Come over today. Come over and lets talk. I have some things to show you anyway, and the surprises might help you relax a bit." Ames thought about it, as she looked at her disheveled and pretty pathetic appearance. She really hadn't planned on going anywhere now. All she wanted to do was lock herself up in her new room.

But then she'd still be close to him; two doors and a hallway the only thing separating her from him. So far she hadn't heard him leave his room... Course that didn't mean anything. He was a fully trained, stealthy, assassin. If he wanted to sneak out without being heard, he could. Even with her better hearing and senses, even she wasn't that good yet. Chance would be the only one who could hear him.

Sighing, Ames gave a lopsided smile. "Sure... I'd love to. Let me get my clothes on and I'll meet you at your place... You still live in the old apartment, right?" She heard a content sigh, notifying Ames that she'd been holding her breath. "Actually no. I moved out. Wasn't enough room anymore. I'll text you my new address. It shouldn't be hard to find."

After that, the two said their goodbyes, before Ames hit the end tab and sat her phone on the table, looking at her wet form, before taking a comb briefly to her hair, brushing her teeth, and putting her long locks up in a messy, wet, ponytail and pulling on the fresh pair of clothes she'd dragged into the bathroom with her; a simple red t-shirt, capri jeans, a simple bracelet, and a pair of red sandals. She applied a small amount of make-up, before stuffing her phone in her back pocket after glancing over the text message with the address.

She cautiously exited the bathroom,looking down the hallway at Guerrero's room, making sure it was closed and he wasn't out and possibly downstairs. When she saw the door was closed, she quickly walked to her room and grabbed her small coin and car purse, before heading quickly down the stairs, still not spying him anywhere, before making it to the stairway and down and out to her car that Silas had told her he'd drop off some time this morning. She'd have to thank him for that next time they talked.

Starting up the car, she quickly backed up and peeled out of her parking spot. In her hurry, she hadn't noticed the security camera following her out the door and to her car and as she left.

**o0o**

"Never known you to hide, bro."

Chance starred at his friend, as he logged out of the buildings security system before shutting his computer, and stuffing it into his shoulder bag. Guerrero didn't look up or show any acknowledgment that he'd heard his old friend, save for the slight squaring of his jaw and twitch of his lip. Subtle signs that Chance had long ago picked up on, knowing that they meant one thing; watch his next steps and words.

When the shorter male finally turned his gaze towards hm, he could see a flash of slight irritation. "Wasn't hiding," he almost growled. Chance frowned. He was going to get some serious backlash from the shorter male for his next few words, but he really didn't care. Guerrero needed to hear this. "Sure looked like you were hiding from her. What? Afraid of Ames or something?"

Guerrero stiffened and his jaw clinched, Chance able to hear his teeth gritting slightly. "What did you expect me to do," he bit out. Chance knew Guerrero was a private person. Didn't like his business being out there for everyone and their cousin to see. This thing with Ames, however, was anything but private to Chance.

Two week after Ames had left, the team had finally noticed something was off. Ames had been gone for long periods before. But never this long. And if she was, she'd have called by now. Alarms went off in everyone's mind. Ilsa had tried to reach her multiple times on her cellphone, but had come up with only a notice stating that the phone was no longer in service.

Winston had went to her house and had her locker checked out, notifying them all that her stuff was gone. All her important and smaller items, all the contents in her locker and home, were gone. Guerrero had pulled up footage from her house and the last day they'd all seen her. The image of Ames cleaning out her locker and simply leaving without a goodbye had them all baffled. And when Guerrero had informed them that he couldn't trace her anymore, the tracer he'd placed on her gone, and that she'd payed her rent for the next coming months, had Winston and Ilsa worried, Chance curious, and Guerrero... Mad.

He'd left for her apartment and swept through it, before going after the landlord. After that, for about two months, Guerrero had searched, and had come up with nothing. His last lead being the docks, before she seemed to vanish. It was as if Ames had been swept off the face of existence for all of them.

After that, Ilsa had begged to send out a missing persons report, but Chance had advised against it. From what they could all see, Ames had left of her own choice. Sure he was worried. But if she wanted to be found, they would have by now. Ames had a way of making herself be seen when she needed to and wanted to be. And if they couldn't find her by then, well perhaps she wanted to be left alone.

Eventually Ilsa and Winston had relented and no report was made... But Guerrero had kept at it. He was... Off then. He was moodier than usual, easier to set off. Ilsa hadn't stood for that and had all but snapped back at his attitude and rude comments. Now Guerrero wouldn't actually hurt Ilsa; not if he didn't want to loose Chance. But he would threaten and he would play the domination and back off card on her. And he had. Ilsa, refined well mannered Ilsa, had hissed back a retaliation to his threats. Needless to say, it had been a shocking display of dominance that hadn't needed. But Ilsa had backed off. And that had mostly been what Guerrero had wanted.

But Chance wasn't Ilsa. He hadn't backed off. After the show of dominance between the two, Chance had tailed Guerrero to one of his safe houses. He hadn't really needed to. Years before, Chance had gotten bored, and had decided to see if he could get away with spying on his friend without being caught; he hadn't been, and now knew the location of three of his safe houses in San Francisco.

Guerrero hadn't been pleased. He really hated people going through his stuff or knowing to much about him, unless he handed you the information. This hadn't been handed, and Guerrero, being in the off state he had been, had actually started a confrontation. The night had been off and everything just seemed to out of place for Chance; like the day Katherine had opened up his eyes to show him the bad of what he was doing.

So after they'd trashed through the place and beaten the living snot out of each other, Chance and him had shared a drink nursing their broken noses and bruised bodies. It had taken awhile, but Guerrero finally revealed he was worried. Worried about Ames and her sudden disappearance. He'd tried to act as though it was because he didn't fully trust her and that she was a loose end, but Chance knew that was bullshit then and there. Guerrero wasn't going to out and tell him, but he knew Chance knew and nothing he said or did would change that. Not even throwing him at the bottom of the ocean.

Chance studied the appearance of his oldest friend and partner. To anyone else he looked his usual self; emotionless, indifferent, and still someone to fear. But to Chance, he could see frustration, pain, and even confusion. Chance hadn't meant to, but he'd heard Ames's confession last night. She'd left because of Guerrero. But exactly what from Guerrero had caused her to leave? "You could have talked to her," Chance finally answered, his arms crossing.

Guerrero scoffed, zipping up his shoulder bag quickly, before throwing it carefully onto the couch next to Carmine as he made his way to the kitchen. He was still to hung-over to leave, Chance noted, before following him into the kitchen. This was going to be a long, painful, talk.

**o0o**

Ames took in the simple home before her. It was a nice place... And five houses down from Guerrero's kids home? Did he know she lived here? He had to know. She figured him for the type of guy to keep track and know everything about every single one of his neighbors.

Stepping out of her car, Ames pushed her sunglasses up onto her head as she smiled at the calm neighborhood, before making her way up the cement laid sidewalk to the door, quickly ringing the doorbell. From her spot on the porch, she could just make out the blue house and spotted a small tricycle on the lawn next to a t-ball set. Ames smiled, happy to see he still played with her gift she'd gotten him.

"Coming! Coming!" Ames jumped, looking at the still closed door, as a male voice was heard on the other side. Had she come to the wrong house? Puzzled, Ames watched as the door opened, and her jaw nearly hit the floor, as the male staring back at her blinked once, twice, before a shy and awkward wave was thrown her way.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Ames exclaimed, opening the door to smile and hug the accident prone male, who seemed surprise as he pat her back awkwardly. "Hi-Hi, Ames! I didn't know you were back... Chance and Winston didn't tell me, I told them to. I mean I did help look for you when I heard you left-" Ames just smiled but drowned him out as the older male kept rambling. It was good to see him again. Harry may have been a clumsy, accident prone, pain, but he was a good guy and had been very good to Ames every time they'd worked with him (mostly working for him, seeing as he was usually the one needing saving).

"Harry, sweetie? Who's at the door?" Ames's head shot up the stairs as a younger, but taller and more defined, old friend of hers stared back at Ames with bright green eyes behind thick glasses that made her look owlish. She had a head of choppily cut auburn hair that was now shoulder length, and pale skin and light pink lips pulled into a wide smile as she quickly, but carefully, made down the stairs to pull Ames into a tight hug. Ames laughed, hugging her back, her eyes wide as she felt something push against her stomach. Pulling back from her friend, she looked down and saw the tell-all bump of her stomach.

"4 ½ months," she whispered happily, "it's gonna be triplets!" Ames's jaw dropped as she placed her hand on the woman's stomach. "Jesus! O! This is great!" Ames couldn't help but feel outright joy for her friend... Only for it to be replaced with confusion. "Wait? Who's the father?"

Beside the two females, Harry let out a sound like he was clearing his throat, but actually sounded like he was choking, as Ames looked between the two. "Wait! Harry? Harry is the father? What happened to never having kids til you got marri-" Ames was cut off as her smaller friend held out her hand to show off the simple, but still beautiful, ring. "Two years this month! We meet after we heard you were missing. I went to Chance and the others and Harry was there. He was so sweet Ames. Took him a month to ask me out. He was so sweet," she leaned her head on his shoulder, and Harry's face flushed a light pink.

"A year and a month later, he proposed and I said yes. We had a small wedding. Winston gave me away. It was real sweet of him, seeing as I never meet my real father or mother you know," she was practically glowing now, "I took so many pictures and asked Harry's sister to record the whole thing so you could see it when you came back, cause lets face it, I knew you would."

Ames was just speechless now. Harry and Olivia? Never, not in a million years, would she have seen that coming... And yet, it made sense. O and Harry were both clumsy but caring, both stubborn when trying to be helpful, and both loved to read (or at least Harry liked to be read to).

"What about your old apartment and all your books? You've been collecting them for years," Ames asked, causing Harry to pipe up. "I fixed up the downstairs to be her own library! Has shelves and everything... Chance helped of course..." Olivia laughed. "He accidentally nail gunned his sleeves to the wall. I had to call Chance to help get him free!" Harry was blushing two shades darker of pink, as he was kissed on the cheek.

"Oh lets stop standing in the doorway! Come on up, Ames. You'll love it! I actually have a floor and furniture to use." Ames watched her head up the stairs and assure Harry she could make it up just fine, before she followed the loving couple up and into their home.

**R & R**

**Why am I not surprised that this isn't the last chapter? Oh yeah, cause I had more ideas to add to it xD And yes! OAR makes her appearance again! Olivia A. Rogers can be found in my fic Bibliophilia. People seemed to like her a lot, so I brought her back. And I just love her with Harry!**

**Hmm... We never got a last name for Harry... Anyone got one they think works... Cause she wouldn't be Rogers anymore since she'd married x3**

**Hope you're having fun! I am! Also, sorry for any OOCness with Guerrero! I was having trouble with him .**


	6. Clock Keeps Ticking That Tick

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **Now I have no clue when this story will end! It has to end sometime,but geeze, I don't know when it will. I know how it ends, but getting there seems to be taking awhile, huh? :P A well. I'm still having fun with this, so whatever, right?

Still giving a big hug and thanks to cedricsowner, veniceiet, niagaraweasel, and Englishrose2011 for taking the time to sit and read my fic and actually comment! I know you're probably tired of hearing it, but it does make me feel like the work I'm putting into this, isn't being lost

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><p><strong>July 19th, 2016<strong>

"So you don't know the their sex yet?"

Ames sipped at her cup of tea, thanking Harry as he passed her the the sugar bowl, scooping in four scoops before stirring up and sipping again. Perfect. In front of her, happily stirring her own tea, Olivia shook her head. "No. We wanted it to be a surprise of course. Makes things more interesting. Of course Harry's mother isn't to keen on the idea. She likes specifications. Likes to make sure she gets them all the right gifts and outfits. She's very amusing."

Harry grumbled. "You wouldn't have found her amusing to grow up with. Especially when she's so poised and big on image. Harriette was more like mom than me and Henry... We took after dad." Ames raised a brow in amusement. Harriette and Henry? Ouch. The woman must have had a thing for H names or something. Ames felt sorry for her. Growing up with a name like Harriette... Seriously asking to be beat up and made fun of.

At least if she grew up how Ames and Olivia had in the orphanage. "I'm proud for both of you, O. I never saw Harry coming, but at least you picked a nice guy," Ames turned to Harry, and suddenly had a look of pure seriousness and someone to be very afraid of. "But if you hurt her, I will personally come in, find you, and teach you the meaning of pain and fucking with my family. Olivia is like my little sister, understand?" Harry made a sound like a mouse being stepped on, but nodded quickly as Olivia laughed.

"Better late then never on the threat, hmm?" Olivia mused, taking Harry's hand and squeezing it as the male eyed Ames like she was some cobra waiting to strike at his face. Ames grinned, but simply sipped her tea. She was glad she had come now. Getting away from... Getting away from the office was the perfect distraction she'd needed... And yet at the same time, it made her slightly envious.

Olivia, little Olivia who had followed her around, use to get Ames into fights, and the same Olivia who was shy around any boy who hit on her... Was married and going to have children of her own. She was with a good guy, lived in a nice house in a safe neighborhood, and was going to be a happy mom. While Ames wasn't envious of the kids (because she never saw herself as ever having kids), she couldn't help but envy Olivia finding and having someone to be with.

Olivia squeezed Harry's hand, before she looked at him. The two seemed to share a subtle conversation with each other, before Harry gave a lopsided grin and pushed himself from the table, taking his cup of coffee with him. "I'm just gonna leave you two alone now... Got... Um... Papers! Yes, lots of papers to go over in my office... Away from here... So you two can talk... Yeah!" Harry gave a sheepish smile, before bolting, almost tripping, for the back of the house towards the office (which Ames had been given a tour of; the green and yellow room was very cute for the babies with three ready and built cribs and toys).

Olivia smiled as her husband disappeared. "Cute and kind he may be, subtle he is not," she sighed happily. "But I love him for it. Makes him an easy book to read,at least." Ames shrugged, but smiled softly as the two shared a comfortable silence as Olivia got up and grabbed a bowl from the top of the fridge, before sitting back at the table, placing it between them. Ames had to laugh. A whole bowl full of Hershey's kisses, wrapped in silver and gold and ready for them.

"Time to spill," Olivia whispered softly, locking friends with Ames, before handing her a small kiss and squeezing her hand. "What's wrong?" Ames looked down at their locked hands and sighed deeply, not really up to talking about it, but knew it was better to let it all out. And letting it out to Olivia was the best thing she could do now.

**o0o**

Across San Francisco, two highly trained ex-assassins sat in a busted up kitchen nursing bruises and busted lips and noses. Chance winced, biting on a piece of broken wood, as he quickly twisted jammed his nose back into place, hissing and muttering incoherently to himself. That had hurt.

Sitting to his left, he heard Guerrero do the same. His tolerance for pain far surpassed Chances, but even he winced as his nose was jammed back into place in such a harsh manner. It wasn't like they hadn't done this before; the fighting and fixing broken noses, that is. But that didn't mean they enjoyed it. And Chance certainly wasn't going to enjoy hearing Ilsa and Winston get onto both of them about the damages and repairs.

"You started it, dude," Guerrero grumbled, seeming to have noticed Chance taking in the extent of their damage to the kitchen. "Not my problem if wide load and boss lady get pissed." Chance grunted in response, his jaw still hurting from Guerrero dislocating it. That had hurt worse than the nose.

Chance watched his friend read just his glasses after fixing them. He felt bad about hitting him in the face, but he'd needed it. He was acting childish. That wasn't like Guerrero. Not always. Not for this long. Chance had always been the childish one, and he had always had Guerrero to peg him down when he needed to be. And now it was his turn. "Are we OK, man?"

Guerrero cast him a glance and shrugged. "Yeah, dude. We're cool." That was all they needed. They had had disagreements in the past, and this was usually the solution. But sometimes he wished it were easier than that. "What do you think she meant? When she said you're the reason she left, I mean?" They had thrown tension and annoyance out. Guerrero knew he wasn't going to get Chance to leave him alone on this, so now that the brawl and make-up had happened, it was time for the serious talk.

Guerrero shrugged, his fight having now left him. He was still grouchy for Chance sticking his nose into his business, but what was done is done. And as for his emotional strangeness... Well, it seemed he was locking that up again. Which meant, hey, his hang-over must be gone at least.

"Don't know, dude. Don't care," he grunted back, popping his shoulder. Chance sighed. This wasn't going how it usually went. "That's bullshit, Guerrero, and you know it, man. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't care," Chance gestured between them and to the broken up kitchen. "And you wouldn't have stood outside her room after she went to bed either. I'm not stupid, man." Chance knew exactly why he had done all this. It wasn't that hard to figure out. The months he watched Guerrero search for Ames was enough to give him all the clues he needed.

But he needed his old friend to tell him to his face. Because he needed to be able to admit it out loud. Holding things in to long wasn't good, even for someone like Guerrero. Your feelings and thoughts didn't matter on a mission. That was what he was taught. What Guerrero had taught him long ago. But this wasn't some mission. Not like the ones they'd had back in the old days. If you didn't care about what you were doing now, then you wouldn't be doing it.

"This is why you and Nancy didn't work out, you know?" Chance watched his jaw square, but pushed on. "She was willing to live with your past and the possible danger. But you and I both know she wasn't up for the emotional wall all the time, bro," Chance walked over and pat his friend on the shoulder, before limping by. "Don't do the same thing to Ames, man."

Chance knew he couldn't get him to open up at the moment. Even after their little fight, it wouldn't be enough for them to talk. Not this time. But even if he couldn't get him to talk, he knew he could get him to think.

**o0o**

She was crying. She was crying again. God she was so tired of this. She felt like some emotional child, crying over anything that happened. It was stupid!

"It's OK to cry, Ames," Olivia whispered, rubbing at her friends back. She had took to letting her friend breakdown on her arm, patting her back and just letting everything Ames was telling her wash over the pregnant woman. Ames felt horrible for breaking down like this. She could see Olivia was crying as well. "Damn hormones," is all she had chuckled, wiping at her eyes, as Ames had pointed it out and apologized. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's OK."

Now Ames felt as wasted and weak as she had in the shower. But this time she didn't feel sick and empty. Talking to Olivia was what she needed. She needed to let everything out. She didn't want to bottle it up anymore. It was just making her sick and she just wanted it all to stop now.

"Does he know?"Ames whipped at her eyes as Olivia took her seat across from her again, sympathy and friendship at the ready. "No," she finally answered, her vocal cords raw from crying. "No he doesn't... Not this part, at least... He knows I left because of him, but I didn't exactly go into details right there in the bathroom," she choked out bitterly, earning a small smile from her oldest friend next to Brody. "Well you can still crack sarcasm, so you must be OK," she mused, causing Ames to laugh a little, sniffing and blowing into the handkerchief she'd been given.

Olivia reached out and pat her friends hand. "Maybe.. You should tell him?" Ames shook her head. No way in hell was that happening! Things were already awkward between them now. No need to make it ten times worse. Besides, it wouldn't help. She wasn't anything worth wile to him. She was always gonna be that punk kid that got on his nerves. No it was best to just leave things where they were.

"What if he finds out? Will you lie if he asks you about it?" Olivia asked, tilting her head, her owlisih eyes making her look like said animal as she did. Ames snorted. "No, I wont lie. But it's not like he'll figure it out anyway." Olivia raised a slender brow. "You really think that?" she picked up a a Hershey kiss and twirled it on the table. "He's pretty smart and quick, Ames... You really think he wont notice? Or at least figure something is up? Especially after this little event?"

She had a point of course. It wasn't like she could just erase what had happened in the bathroom between them. Or take back what she'd said. It wasn't possible... But that didn't mean she had to acknowledge it. It may have happened. It may be real. But she could ignore it. It would feel like an elephant in the room at first, but she'd eventually just learn to look past it. "If I don't talk about it or ever bring it back up... It never happened, right?"

Olivia sighed and shook her heads. Ames could see she didn't agree with this idea. But she wouldn't try to stop her from it, and for that Ames was grateful. "Thank-you," Ames sighed, seeing Olivia throw up her hands but sigh. "I just... This isn't what I wanted to deal with when I came back. Maybe some day I'll be able to tell him, but for now, it's just a whole lot simpler to just let it be pushed away."

Olivia snorted, again showing her disagreement, but again did not press as she picked up her cup and finished the last of her tea, as Harry stuck his head around the corner into the kitchen. "Is it safe to come back in...?" Ames laughed at the sheepish look on the males face, and Olivia waved him in, taking his hand as he reached out to squeeze hers.

"Get your paper work done?" Olivia winked at Ames, before looking up at her husband. Harry blushed and sheepishly nodded. "Oooh yeah! All done1 Donner than done. Yeah..." He trailed off, looking even more sheepish than Ames thought possible, as she smiled and motioned for Harry to sit with them. "Come on, Harry. I could use some cheering up."

Harry gave a small grin, as he slid into his former seat as Ames asked them about their first date and how it went, pushing her former thoughts away for now.

**o0o**

On the south side of old Frisco, in an old building one would easily call out as a cheesy villain hideout, a quiet figure sat staring at the dozen screens before him. Some showing a business office, others nice little suburban homes, and others showing the inside of each of these buildings.

Across the screen, clear as day, Ames could be seen chatting with Olivia and Harry, no sound heard, while on another screen, and angry Winston was chewing out Chance and Guerrero, gesturing to the broken kitchen the man had, moments ago, watched be torn apart by their brawl.

The mans shadow loomed over the images, watching them with a sneer, as behind him, two large thugs stood quietly and waiting. He was a picture of malice and hate, his cold eyes fixated hungrily on the screens, before he snarled and slammed his fist into one of the screens, as it flashed an image of Guerrero rolling his eyes at Winston.

His thugs remained quiet, as their boss slowly removed his fist from the electric sparking and broken screen. "Guerrero...," he growled. "You... You made a mockery of me all those years ago. You took something of mine and now... Now I'm going to get it back! I will have everything of yours. You will be left with nothing before I finally end your miserable existence," the mans stony eyes slowly landed on Ames. "I _will_ make you suffer!"

An outline of the mans hand spread across the image of Ames, curling slowly into a tight gripped fist, as his snarl twisted into a malicious grin. Soon he was going to make sure that Guerrero hurt the same way he had been hurt by the man many years ago.

"Archie? Eddie? I think it's time we invited the lovely miss over... Don't you?" Behind him, Archie and Eddie, his two thugs, smirked and cracked their knuckles. "Sure thing, boss," Archie chuckled deeply. "We'll send a personal invitation. Wont we Eddie?"

Eddie cackled, slamming his fist into his palm. "Yeah, boss, we would love to also help escort the lady here to meet cha!" Their boss let a slow smirk spread across his lips, as he snapped his fingers and waved them on. "Oh and do be gentle. We don't wanna harm her too much... Not yet, at least."

The boys chuckled, before sliding out the door, leaving their boss to quietly pick up his almost forgot cup of bourbon and take a large swig. After fifteen years he was going to finally make that son of a bitch suffer.

He could just feel the anticipation in every fiber of his being. This was going to be most satisfying.

**R & R**

**Why yes! Yes I am going old school stereotypical villain! What? Is that a bad thing? If it is... So what! It's fun x3**

**A mystery mad man who's out to get Guerrero... Uh-Oh :0 Lol! Don't worry, I'm not suddenly changing this to Watchmen. Guerrero wont start munching on sugar cubes and running around screaming "Do it!" I swear!... But that would be funny, no? :P**

**Stay tuned!**


	7. The Broken Clock Isn't A Comfort

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **You know, it's a good thing I didn't try to make this less or equal to five chapters. I really can not see all this fitting in that small amount... What the hell was I thinking then? Haha! Well, now I'm not even gonna try to count. This thing is done when it's done. Although I am hoping it doesn't run to twenty chapters. Not sure why, I just think that's to long for me... Meh. Whatever. I know how this all ends and when it does, I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. For now, pleasejust keep on enjoying it with me, okay?

Big hug and thanks to cedricsowner! You're such a sweetie to put up with my story! You make me a very happy gal!

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><p><strong>July 19th and 20th , 2016<strong>

_Six PM. _It was late. She'd been here all day?

Harry and Olivia had been wonderful hosts for her. They had kept her laughing and smiling the whole time, her body feeling lighter and her mind free of any thoughts she didn't want to have. That she really didn't want to deal with.

But it was getting late. Olivia looked tired. Her pregnancy took a lot out of her. She had always been a small girl. The extra weight and energy drain of the growing fetus had to be hard on her. Harry was worried as well. He would watch over her with hawk-like skills that Ames didn't even know he had! It seems that when it came to someone important to him, Harry could become a whole other person; a person as capable as Winston was to Chance and Guerrero.

How comical. The gang all seemed uncomfortable and wary of Harry's presence in the past... Maybe because he was never given a chance. Sure he would botch missions and get himself in loads of trouble, but he tried. Perhaps he had been trying in the wrong way all these years.

"Something on your mind?" Harry pulled her from her thoughts, and she just shook her head. "Just thinking of the time. It's getting late and you," she pointed to Olivia, "need to get some sleep, mama O." Olivia rolled her eyes but chuckled non the less. "Are you leaving me again?" Olivia asked, as Ames pushed herself from her chair, popping her back and stretching her legs. Damn she felt old sometimes.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I need to get back... Need to straighten some things out I suppose." Olivia nodded in understanding, before getting up with the help of Harry. She walked around the table and tightly hugged her old friend. "Don't go disappearing on me again, OK? I want you to be around when the little ones are born so they can meet their godmother."

Ames pulled back in surprise, seeing the smile and twinkle in her friends eyes. She was serious! Ames felt pride swell up in her. "Well I wouldn't wanna disappoint, would I? Don't worry," Ames laughed, patting Olivia's pouched stomach, "I'm not going anywhere."

The two shared one more hug, before Ames gave Harry a hug goodbye, telling them both to take care of themselves, before making down the stairs to the doorway, waving once more, before heading into the slowly darkening neighborhood. There was a warm breeze that rustled her long hair, as she slowly jogged down the stairs, grabbing her keys out of her pocket, hitting the button to unlock her car, before sliding into the front seat. The door still opened and halfway in the car, she quickly checked to make sure she had everything, and slid her legs into the vehicle and made to close the door, when her wrist was roughly grabbed.

"_Never let your guard down, Ames. Never. You gotta always be ready for an attack, even if your among friends, keep your guard up." _Ames cursed, Silas's teaching ringing like a loud bell in her ear. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "Hey, girlie! You're late for a meeting with our boss!" A deep, rough, voice laughed, twisting Ames's wrist as she tried to yank it free. Gritting her teeth, Ames swung her leg out and up, grunting as it made hard contact with something soft, but firm; possibly her attackers side, causing them to let her go.

Stumbling back, she was able to take in the two large males she had never seen or meet before. They were both dressed in dark gray suits and hair long and slicked back; large twins. Terrific. "Now come on, girlie. Boss aint gonna be happy if you keep him waiting any longer," the second one voiced, reminding Ames of someone who had taken one to many blows to the head. The first made another grab for her, and Ames ducked and slid under them.

"She's getting away!" the second one whined, "I'll shoot her leg!" She made a mad dash. Although she could probably take down one of them, two was not an option. She'd learned that though she was strong, she was poor at handling more than one attacker. Two would overwhelm her in the end. She didn't have enough skills for that many yet. "Don't shoot! Idiot!," the first male ordered, "you'll wake up the whole god damn neighborhood!"

Ames was about three houses away, when she heard him speak up loud enough for her to hear. "Since she wont come to us, perhaps she'll come for her little pregnant friend and her dopey husband,. Whaddya think, Archie?"

Archie, the second brother, let out a dorky laugh. "Good idea, Eddie! I'm sure they wouldn't mind more company." Ames froze in her spot and slowly turned around to glare daggers at them. The first male, Archie, grinned maliciously as he pointed his gun at the door of Olivia and Harry's house. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, girlie. Unless you want us to hurt your friends, I suggest you get your pretty little ass over here and come quietly."

What else could she do. She couldn't let them hurt Olivia and Harry... Christ how had they not heard all of this, anyway? Bedroom. There bedroom was on the other end of the house. Ames and the goons hadn't made much noise. Not enough to alert them that something was wrong. They didn't know. Damn!

Even if she was glad the goons hadn't hurt them, she wouldn't have minded them maybe getting a hold of Chance or Winston or Guerrero to warn them!... Then again, this was Harry and Olivia! Harry would do anything for Olivia it seemed, and he'd do anything to be a hero and help Ames... He'd just get himself shot or worse. And Olivia would be a widowed mother of three.

As calmly and slow as possible, Ames made her way back to the thugs, who were now standing at their black truck (at least it wasn't the cliché black van like in old movies) gesturing her to come to them, Archie's guns still pointed at the house.

"You guys are sick," Ames seethed, as the one called Eddie roughly grabbed her by the back of her shirt and turned to force her harshly into the truck. "Now keep quiet or else," Archie ordered, his gun now placed firmly against Ames's right temple as he slid into the truck, Eddie sliding into the drivers seat, squishing her between their larger forms.

"Oh and just for extra measure..." Ames barely had time to register, when the butt of Archie's gun slammed into the back of her head, forcing her forehead into the dash of the truck, knocking her out cold.

**o0o**

Her bed was empty. Her car was still gone. No sound from the bathroom; no running water. She wasn't here...

Guerrero stood in the doorway of the room Chance had offered up to her, taking in the still messy bed from the night before. It was ten A.M. and no sign of Ames anywhere. Her clothes and bag of belongings was still on the floor, barely touched, save for when she had removed her clothes and toiletries.

Crossing the room, he bent down and opened the bag, picking through it. He found clothes, trinkets, and... A diary? Years of snooping and curiosity in him, Guerrero picked up the diary and held it up, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed in front of the bag.

It was a light robins egg blue with a gold, slight protruding silver symbol that reminded Guerrero of the medallion called the Auryn from The Never Ending Story (If it weren't for his son, he would have probably had no clue of the movie or what Auryn was). Flipping it from back to front, he slowly opened the small diary to one of the first few entries, date unknown, save for the number thirteen written at the corner of the page.

"_It's adoption day today. Everyone is dressed up to look their best," _he read aloud under his breath, _"Brody says I shouldn't try to look nice. No one will adopt me he says. Not because I'm ugly or bad, but because I'm thirteen now. Brody says that when you turn thirteen or older in an orphanage, nobody wants you. They only want the little ones. I don't believe that. It can't be true. I'm still a good kid. I could still be adopted... Right?"_

The entry ends and Guerrero can't help but flip to the next page. In the corner a small thirteen is written, and he can make out splotches; tear stains. _"Nobody wants me. I didn't get adopted. All the adults said I was cute, and sweet, and polite. I smiled at all of them and even ate miss Allisons nasty pea soup for them. But nobody wanted me. They took all the little ones. Me and Brody got left behind. He was right. Nobody wants you after you turn thirteen."_

Guerrero feels his jaw clinch as he shakes his head, flipping ahead to the middle of the book. In the corner, a small seventeen is written. _"I got caught for shop lifting today. And by the slowest cop on the block even!_ _Brody keeps laughing at me for that. I tried to dodge him. I really did. But he caught me in the malls kid area as I tried to run down the slide. But some little boy was in my way and I tripped. So he caught me. He chewed me out. Some long lecture about needing to better myself. I think he just likes to hear himself talk."_

He snorted. Surprise surprise. Winston hadn't really changed from the past, had he? He was a pain in the ass then and still is now. _'That's not totally true,' _a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. He brushed it away, shutting the diary and slipping it back into the bag. He could have read more, but with how unsteady things were between him and Ames, he didn't want him reading her diary to be added to the list. Pushing up from the bed, he quietly walked out the room and down the hall and stairs to the downstairs living-room to find Chance feeding Carmine one of his bagels.

"Hey man," Chance greeted with a wave, licking cream cheese from his fingers before biting into his own bagel, as Guerrero walked to the kitchen. He had left his friend last night after Winston had freaked out on them for the damage and how Ilsa would hear about this and most likely be all on their asses when she got back from Rome with Connie. Boss lady didn't scare him, and last night hadn't been his fault.

All Chance. He was the one who pushed. Guerrero had simply pushed back. Common thing to do in an intense situation, right? Totally, dude. "Hey dude," Guerrero finally commented back, now having a cup of tea. It was early for him, but late for Winston. Surprisingly, the taller bald male was nowhere in sight.

Chance sat sprawled on the couch,scratching Carmine's ear, as the dog snored softly, his head on his owners lap. Chance looked ready to say something as Guerrero sat down, only for his phone to start going off, playing some badly mixed version of "Johnny Be Good". Looking puzzled, Guerrero watched Chance bring the phone to his ear. "This is Chance."

A loud, familiar and frantic, female voice pierced the males ears. "Olivia," Chance tried, speaking loudly into the phone. "Olivia, calm down, I can't understand you-Yes, yes but Harry on the phone," Guerrero raised a bushy brow as he heard Harry's voice. "OK? Now what's wrong? I couldn't understand..." Chance trailed off, pushing off the back of the couch to sit up straight, causing Carmine to huff in annoyance.

His face became stone serious, and he leaned into the ear piece. "How long ago was that? Have you tried calling her?" Guerrero's frowned and sat up, trying to train his ears to hear Harry's side, only able to pick up muffled and incoherent sounds. "OK... OK, Harry, I need you to not touch anything. You and Olivia stay in the house. I'll be right over."

Chance quickly hung up the phone and glanced warily at Guerrero, who stiffened at the hesitant look Chance was giving him. Dude... Something was wrong. "Bro...?" Guerrero questioned, standing up as Chance did. "Harry and Olivia found Ames's car still parked in their driveway... The door was still opened... They didn't see any signs of her..."

Guerrero's jaw clinched tightly, the cup filled with tea cracking from the sudden tightening of his grip as he let the cup crash to the floor into pieces,before silently, without a word, he rushed for the elevator, Chance following behind.

**o0o**

It was dark and cold. As she slowly came to her waking sense, she realized she couldn't see anything and her hands and legs were trapped. Duct-tape and handcuffs. Double set. Fuck! Groaning and wishing for an aspirin, Ames tired to look around, only to realize the reason she couldn't see, was what felt like a cloth, was tied around her eyes.

"Ah! Looks like she's awake! Boys, it looks like you didn't break her after-all. Good good. I'd hate to have miss Ames be busted before we even began. That wouldn't do at all." A calm and soothingly creepy voice reached her ears, sounding like they were a few feet in-front of her. She tried once again to move her arms and legs, but it was, once again, to no avail. She was held down tight. These guys had done their restrainer homework.

"I'm terribly sorry for the cloth, miss Ames. But don't worry it's temporary. As soon as we get you someplace nice and quiet, then we can take off that annoying mask, OK?" she glared in the direction of his voice even though he couldn't tell, as she felt her chair being moved. "Who are you?" Ames managed to finally asked, finding her voice.

The man chuckled calmly. "I'm an old friend of one of your employees. An old friend who is...Very cross with them. Ah but lets not talk about that now. Lets get you settled in, shall we? Archie, Eddie, please be more careful this time, OK? Miss Ames doesn't need more bumps and bruises on her pretty little head."

And that was all she got before she felt the chair being roughly lifted and moved to a place she couldn't see. She struggled and pulled at her restraints the whole way.

**R & R**

**Aaaaaahh! Ames! Oh noes :0 What's going on? Who is this man that has Ames? What's Guerrero and Chance gonna do? And why is Winston late? Ooooeeeeooo!**

**Haha! I'm a goof, I know.**

**Well another chapter down. And hey, since I have you attention for now, I should warn you next chapter changes the rating a bit, so if you suddenly see that it's at M after next chapter, don't blink and rub your eyes, cause you arnt seeing things!**


	8. The Wrong Place and Time

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **Not much for me to really say here, except Istill am amazed this thing is this , seriously! When I thought this out, I didnt plan for ALL thisxD Ah well it's a new experience really. I know what I can and can't work with a littlemroe now, and thats always a plus for a fanfic writer. So... WooT!

Big hug and thanks to cedricsowner! You're such a sweetie to put up with my story! You give me the energy and readiness to continue on to the next chapter! Huzzah to you!

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><p><strong>July 20th, 2016<strong>

He had to be breaking about fifty traffic laws by now. But Chance wasn't going to berate him for it. If he was feeling the same way he knew his friend must be feeling, then he would also be as wild and upset, forgetting about his own safety.

Guerrero was gripping the wheel so hard, Chance was surprised it hadn't broken or been crushed yet. His knuckles were white and hands shaking slightly, as they whipped off the main exit road of the city, and made their way down a small side road, before spotting Pine Street and whipping down it. Chance was glad when he slowed down. A lot of kids lived in this neighborhood... Guerrero's boy included.

Thinking of his son, Chance saw Guerrero glance at his house as he passed it. The t-ball set was up along with his slip-n-slide. That kid had everything he could need it seemed. He was a good kid, too. Smart, well-mannered, and a bit mischief like any ten-year-old boy would be. It always amused and startled Chance how much he looked like Guerrero when he'd get that mischief glint and grinned.

"Have you been to see them since his birthday?" Chance asked as they approached Harry and Olivia's house. "No, dude," he answered, his voice strained. He was pissed. Ames going missing was getting to him. It was her leaving all over again. Only this time, Ames truly could be in some serious trouble.

As they pulled into the driveway, Chance found Harry and Olivia sitting on the porch. Harry helped her up as they walked across the driveway to meet Chance, while Guerrero walked over to Ames's car after pulling his tackle box out of the trunk. Olivia hugged Chance tight, and he could see the tears gleaming in her eyes. "She was suppose to head home, Chance.. I didn't.. .We didn't hear anything... Oh God..."

Harry put a comforting arm around her and ushered her back to the porch to sit down, whispering soothingly to her, before jogging over to them, tripping slightly. "I didn't- I didn't touch anything. Nothing... But I did look... I didn't find anything, though-" Harry began to ramble about where he had and hadn't looked. Chance watched Guerrero pull on some gloves and go to work on Ames's car, searching for clues.

On the steps of the simple suburban home, Olivia covered her face with her hands, shaking. Chance pat Harry on the shoulder and pointed her way, before the male quickly ran to her side and sat beside her, rubbing her back. Chance had to admit that Harry may be a klutz and may have gotten them into more trouble than they needed... But he was a good husband.

He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the man so nervous than the time he wanted to propose to her. It had taken Winston, Guerrero, and himself hours via earpiece to help him through the dinner to ask her. The answer to his proposal had been a squeal and sound of passionate kissing, before they'd all turned off their earpieces, knowing full well what the night was going to be for Harry and Olivia.

Watching the two a little longer, Chance smiled slightly, before turning to jog over to the vehicle, seeing Guerrero shut his tackle-box with a loud and hard slam. His arm was across the top of the car, his head resting against his arm, as he shook. Chance didn't have time to stop him, as Guerrero's fist made hard contact with the window of Ames's car, cracking the glass.

Chance winched, but said nothing, letting his friend simmer down, before he reached out and pat him on the shoulder. "Silas trained her, Guerrero... I know you dont like him, but he's good at what he does and Ames is much better at handling herself and situations. She'll be alright, man..."

He wanted to say he promised, but remained silent. Shouldn't promise something you weren't sure you could keep. Katherine had been an example of that.

**o0o**

Ames struggled. She struggled as much as she could in the cold, hard chair, frustrated and, though she hated to admit it, scared. She wasn't sure how long it had been since the men who had captured her had woken her. It could have been hours, maybe days or even a few seconds. She didn't know. In the dark of the blindfold, time seemed to be lost.

She was tired. She wanted to sleep. But she couldn't. Sleeping could be dangerous. She needed to stay alert and ready. She didn't know who these guys were or what exactly they wanted, but she had a feeling that it was something she really didn't want to know.

A shuffling sound caused her head to snap up and her body to tense, her thoughts dashed away with each clap of feet on hard floor. Ames let her ears help her follow the movement of her visitor, as they came to a firm stop in front of her, sounding as if they were a mere foot from her. She tried to keep her breathing calm, as she sat straight and stiff, waiting.

"You know I'm very proud of you, miss Ames," the man from before spoke, Ames's eyes narrowing behind the blind. "You haven't made any annoying noises or even tried to really escape and cause me trouble. I'm very pleased... You deserve a reward I believe... Yes, that's what you deserve. Eddie, would you do the honors?"

Ames heard heavy shuffling behind her and inwardly cursed. Where had they come from? She stiffened to stone as she felt hand brush against the back of her scalp, waiting for some kind of pain or worse, only to blink in surprise, as the blind was removed from her eyes and she was able to slowly adjust to the brighter, though not by much, room.

Not surprising, she was in what appeared to be an old warehouse. It was spacious and the lighting was dull and almost painfully bad for the eyes. Around her, she found old, to new, cameras and equipment along with all kinds of stage and set props and even whole sets still intact. Before her, the cleanest of the many sets, was what appeared to be a bedroom... A familiar looking bedroom, actually... But she couldn't place the set.

"Better? I do apologize for keeping you sightless, but I had to see how you were going to behave. I can't reward those who act out and show an intent to harm me even if they can't see me. I am pleased you passed my little test." Ames took in the new form before her. He was a man of average height and weight, though she could make out some muscle under his nicely pressed dark red shirt with tan pants and nice dark brown shoes. His hair was a dark black with a bit of gray and white salted here and there on his sides. His eyes were a piercing green, and even though he was smiling, it didn't reach his eyes.

His smile widened as he stepped closer, hands shoved calmly in his front pockets. "Afraid I've forgotten my manners. Forgive me, we haven't been properly introduced, have we? My name is Elliot J. Grant. Elliot for short. No need for over formalities, right?" Ames remained silent, allowing Elliot to ramble as she silently took in her surroundings once more, hoping now she could find a way to escape.

"It's very rude to look away from someone when they're talking to you," Amesc grunted as suddenly, her chin was roughly grabbed and her face was forced back to look at Elliots, his smile calm and cool, as he sighed, holding her jaw bruisengly tight. "Now miss Ames, please. I'd hate to regret my generous gift of allowing you to see. If you can't cooperate, I'm afraid you will be punished."

Ames glared daggers at the man, before she spit, hitting him straight in the eye, feeling smug... Only to regret her decision, as, with surprising and dangerous speed, Elliot's hand whipped out and, with his knuckles, he slammed them across her face, splitting her lip with the gold band on his right knuckle, her head snapping to the side from the force of the impact. "That was very un-ladylike, miss Ames. I suggest you not do that again."

The calm of his voice from earlier wavered just slightly, as Ames sputtered, spitting the blood from her mouth,wincing as she felt more blood pool from her nose. Fuck... That hurt. Her bangs fell in her face as she glared, her lip and nose bleeding as she slowly turned her head to face him once again, breathing a little heavily now.

"Good girl," Elliot exclaimed, his calm demeanor returning. Definitely unstable this one. "Now please dont give me that look. This isn't your fault. Your just with the wrong person at the wrong time I'm afraid. Your convenient. I mean, if it wasn't you, it was going to be the ex-cop. Of course he's possibly dead after my boys left him in that alleyway dumpster." Ames's eyes widened and her heart dropped to her stomach. Winston... No!

"No!" Ames exclaimed, horror on her blood coated face. "No, what did you do to hi-Aah!"She was cut mid rant by another forceful snap across her other side, her lip being cut by her teeth this time, her cheek smarting and possibly now bruised. Her eyes watered slightly, but she held back the tears. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. "Shouldn't interrupt miss Ames," Elliot sighed, wiping her blood on a wash cloth handed to him by Archie.

"Boys? Is the everything set up? I'm afraid we don't have time to prep miss Ames for her big debut in her first small role," Elliot asked, his eyes slowly roaming over Ames's form, before he turned to look at the twin thugs. Archie nodded. "Yeah, boss. We gots everything all set up for yas. Just gotta pop in the film and hit record."

Eddie jutted his thumb to the set. "Want us to get her set up over there boss?" Elliot clapped his hands happily, and grinned. "That would be most helpful of you, boys... And perhaps you could give miss Ames a new look. I'm afraid she's too... Covered and clean for this role."

A sickening grin spread across Eddie and Archie's face as Ames felt her heart drop from her stomach and out her body, as they leered down at her. "We'd love to, boss," Eddie cackled before reaching to roughly grab Ames by her hair.

**o0o**

In an alleyway of San Francisco, a block from the office, the large, familiar, form of Laverne Winston lay covered in trash, dirt, and blood, propped up against a wall behind a large black trashcan, gun gripped tightly in his large hands, as his vision blackened in and out.

Across from him, about a few scoots away, was his phone. He tried to move to reach out for it, but his vision swam and once again he would pass out. His head hurt and his body felt broken. The thugs from before were as tall and large as him and had thrown him damn hard down the alleyway before they had shot him, hitting his arm and knocking him off balance into the wall on the other side of the old dumpster.

They must have thought him dead, for they hadn't thought to come and grab him and drag them away while they could. He could feel his arm throbbing, feel the warm blood trickle from the bullet womb. It wasn't bad, but he was loosing a lot of blood. If not for that blow to the head, he'd be at his phone to call for help.

They had caught him off guard. He had parked his vehicle a block away and had been two steps from his parking spot, when he'd been roughly grabbed. He'd fought them off, his old training from his time on the force rusty but still intact from his years with Chance and Guerrero, as the thugs gave him a rough up. He'd went to draw his gun as they'd wrestled into the alleyway,only for one of the assholes to catch him with a bullet.

"Ah fuck! You weren't suppose to kill him, Archie ya idiot! Boss is gonna be pissed! We were suppose to get the girl and the big guy! Boss aint gonna like this," one of the men snapped, kicking his feet and cussing as the other one whined and apologized. "Sorry, Eddie! But he was gonna try ta shoot us! It was an accident! I wasn't trying to kill him!"

Eddie had continued his cursing, before ordering his brother to follow him. "Someone might have heard that shot! I dont wanna deal with the cops, come on!" And after that, they'd left. He wasn't sure how long ago that was, but that didn't matter. He had to get up! He had to call Chance!

Using what strength he could muster, Winston pushed from the wall, pushing past the constant blurring and blackening of his vision, as he reached with shaking fingers to grasp at the cell-phone, gripping it tightly as he opened it up and hit the number one, sighing in relief when he heard the Chance's voice.

**R & R**

**Poor Winston! Why must I torture you? I mean you already had the bad experience with "The Bearded Man"! You don't need this!... Well yes you do for the story, but I still feel bad.**

**And poor Ames... It's about to just get worse. And I know I said the rating would change this chapter, but its gonna change next chapter everyone!**


	9. Bad Hands Don't Tick

**Authoress Note:** Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD

**Authoress Extra Note: **The following piece contains possible uncomfortable images. Although I'm not going really extreme with the piece, it is still something many might find uncomfortable, and thus I feel I should warn you. Sexual content, considerable non-con, and blood are evident. You have been warned! No whining now!

Big hug and thanks to cedricsowner!

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><p><strong>July 20th, 2016<strong>

She screamed. She screamed loud and clear. She wanted to pull away. She just wanted them to leave her alone now. Why? Why was this happening? Why! Ames's clothes were now tattered and exposing.

Her jeans had been ripped from her and off her with the flick of a blade. The blade had traced along her underwear to her stomach, before swiftly, her top was cut, just missing her black bra underneath. It now hung open, barely covering her, barely providing any protection from wandering eyes and the cold of the warehouse.

They had moved her to the oddly familiar looking bedroom set and sat her in the middle in-front of a camera. Even know she didn't know if it was on or not. But at the moment her concentration was on the middle and index digits that had wormed their way into her! "We have to make you just right for the camera, miss Ames. You understand, yes?" Elliot had chuckled as he'd unbutton his red top and revealed a dark gray tank-top underneath, along with her conformation that he had some muscles on him.

"Now don't you worry," he'd whispered with an almost calming smile. "This is simply for the camera. We have to make you look as helpless as possible. And at the moment the cuts and bruises are nice, but it needs a more dramatic and angering appeal. I can't send off the final results unless I have that element." He was behind her now, his arms came to rest on her shoulders, and she tried to turn her head to bite him, but found her head locked in place by his forearms, keeping her face forward, only for it to bend as he reached down her body.

Ames's body shook as she saw where his hand was; felt where his hand was! His fingers pressed confidently between her legs against the fabric of her black underwear, and pressed. Ames panicked. She tried to slam her head back and close her legs. She began to thrash and shake in her restraining seat. _'No no no no no no-!' _her mind was screaming over and over as she wiggled and tried hard to break the hold.

She was suddenly. However meet with an open palm slap to her cheek, before his back hand made hard contact with the other. He hit her multiple time, her eyes watering from the impacts, before he took the same position once more, this time his fingers pushing and rubbing roughly against her sex, the fabric of her undergarment the only barrier between them. Ames grit her teeth and was on the verge of thrashing again, when she cried out as her hair was roughly yanked by Elliots strong hands, holding her in place as he continued.

Across from them and to her left, Eddie and Archie were grinning lecherously as they kept the camera pointed at them. Was that thing recording? Her mind vaguely thought on it, before she was roughly pulled from that wondering thought, as Elliot pushed her garment aside and began to rub roughly at her exposed sex, his fingers working the skin, sliding and pressing. She tried to move, but winced at the tug of her hair and scalp, shuddering as his fingers continued to work at her.

"You are doing wonderful now, miss Ames," Elliot exclaimed happily. Out of the corner of her right eye, she could see his face. He was calm. As if the act he was performing on her was the naturalist thing to do. That he was allowed to do it. Ames wanted nothing more than to beat that calm out of him til he was fearful! His touches, however, were also clouding her mind with a sort of fog that was slowly coming to her mind. "Isn't she doing well, boys?"

Archie and Eddie laughed. "Oh yeah, boss," Eddie snickered almost gleefully. "She's doing good alright." Archie just continued to laugh, his eyes trailed on where his bosses fingers were now sliding and pressing inside. Ames screamed. That's all she could do. She screamed and tried to move her legs. "S-Stop!" Ames gasped out, shaking and her teeth gritting loudly. "S-Stop! D-D-Don't fucking touch me! S-Sick f-fuck!" She screamed loud, hoping it hurt his ear. She screamed as her hair was yanked harder than she'd ever had done. It hurt so much. Her scalp was screaming in protest.

"Be quiet, miss Ames!" Elliot snarled, his fingers never stopping their slide inside her. "Archie! Grab the duct tape! If miss Ames is going to keep up this annoying banter, I'm afraid she'll have to loose her privilege to speak!" Elliot was holding her tightly, as she tried to scoot her waist and body to the side, away. She wanted away from him. He was sick! She didn't want his touches!

"Found it boss," Archie called over her snarls and animal like screams, which were cut as a piece of restraining duct tape was slapped over her mouth. "Aaah... Much better, miss Ames. I'm terribly sorry to do this, but you brought it on yourself," Elliot tsked, as Archie was shooed away after getting a thank-you from his boss.

His fingers began their play again, curling and spreading and pumping in and out and around her, inside her. She continued to shudder and pull, continued to try to pull her body away from him. But she was getting weak. Her body was tired from lack of nutrition and sleep. She hadn't eaten in she didn't know how long. And she didn't know how long she'd been here, but she hadn't slept since she woke up with the blindfold.

"Oh much better. See, if you just relax this would be much easier, miss Ames," Elliot commented, pointing out how her thrashes were slowly becoming less and less,her bodies fatigue slowly winning over her will to get away from the man.

**o0o**

"Winston?... Winston, hey... -hear me?"

Winston slowly, very slowly, felt himself coming to. Hi vision blurred and shifted, as he tried to grasp at the visible world, at Chance standing just a few feet from him. He blinked a few times, before groaning and slowly moving his hand up to grab at his throbbing head, wincing as he looked at his arm upon feeling it pule painfully. It was wrapped up and lightly stained with blood. The shot, the thugs!

Winston tried to sit up quickly, recalling what had happened, only to cringe and fall back against the couch he'd been placed on. "Easy, Winston," Chance soothed, kneeling down to keep his eyes on Winston's lowered face as the taller male grumbled and cursed. "Chance?" Winston finally grasped out. "What the hell... Where am I?"

Chance smiled upon hearing his friends voice. "You're back at the office... You called me... Do you remember what happened? We found you in an alleyway behind a dumpster about a block from here." Winston furrowed his brow, his memories still coming back to him as he quickly tried to piece them together. "Yeah... Yeah I remember. Some asshole thugs attacked me from my car before they shot me. They started complaining about needing to keep me alive for their boss, but that's all I could get...And what do you mean 'we'?"

Winston hadn't noticed Guerrero til now. He was frantic looking, his hair pushed back and wild, as he typed madly at the pad of the new office computer. His piercing eyes were bright and full of what Winston could make out as anger. "What's wrong with him?" Winston asked, sitting up finally. He didn't dare try to stand, for fear he'd tumble over. His headache was starting to disappear now at least.

"Ames has been kidnapped." Winstons eyes widened and he stared at Chance. "What!" he exclaimed, causing Chance to give him a boyish sympathetic look. Apparently he'd not wanted to tell him but now had. "What do you mean she's been kidnapped!" Chance held up his hands and quickly and briefly explained the events that had accured this morning. Winstons eyes became wider than dinner plates, as he cursed.

"_We were suppose to get the girl and the big guy! Boss aint gonna like this,"_ Winston grumbled, recalling the thugs argument. Ames. Ames must have been "the girl"... Damn! Chance gave him a puzzled look before Winston finally told him of the argument the two thugs had after they had shot him. Needless to say, they weren't the brightest or best baddies out there. "All I got was the names Archie and Eddie," Winston sighed, finally getting tired of just sitting, before pulling and pushing himself out of the chair.

"Archie and Eddie Nilpferd, the Big Brothers?" Guerrero finally asked, looking up at them from the computer. "Big dudes. Not very bright. Dark and dumb features?" Winston blinked, before nodding. "Yeah," he answered finally, as him and Chance shared a look, before walking into the office to see two mug shots of twin brothers with dark hair and eyes and tall and large features. "That's them," Winston mused.. "How do you-?"

Guerrero cut him off. "Ran into trouble with them a few years back. Let them live if they helped me dump their ex-boss. Guy was scaring up the north coast, put a bullet in his head. Haven't seen them since," Guerrero mumbled, typing quickly at the computer. His fingers seemed to dance, and Winston had to remember that Guerrero may be a nut job, but he was a professional hacker and computer expert.

"Excuse me, but what is going on?" Chance and Winston blinked, before turning around to find their boss and purse, Ilsa Pucci, looking rather lost. She was dressed in a simple black dress, her hair and make-up in place. "Ilsa?" Winsto heard Chance sigh, as the blonde tilted his head. "Thought you were in Rome with Connie."

Ilsa knit her brows and frowned. "Well I was. But the trip was cut short. Connie became very sick and her fiancee took her home, so I returned... What's going on here?" she approached the men, and looked at the screen as Guerrero typed away madly. "What's Mr. Guerrero looking for?"

Winston and Chance shared a look. He wasn't going to tell her. Chance sighed, before giving her a look. "Ames has been kidnapped. We arn't sure who has her. And Winston was attacked, so we think they're targeting me or Guerrero by attacking them."

Ilsa's eyes widened and her face paled. "Oh dear... I..Then this is..." Winston gave her a puzzled look,as she reached in her purse and produced a wrapped disk. His heart jumped to his ears, as he saw a simple name written in black marker. "Ames". Ilsa handed the disk to Chance. "I-I had assumed it was simple mail.. It was in the box..." Ilsa sounded small almost, lost and fearful, as Chance rushed the disk over to Guerrero.

The two quickly set up the video feed and slipped the disk in. At first nothing happened. Then the black screen flickered, and Winston wanted to puke. On the screen, barely exposed and bruised and bloodied, looking of hell itself, was Ames. "Oh my God!" Ilsa exclaimed, her hand clasping her mouth as the camera focused in on her broken form of the young woman.

To his left, Winston could see Guerrero pale, his body stiff and his eyes totally locked on Ames's form. "Doesn't she look wonderful?" a voice drew Winston back to the screen, as a figure stood behind Ames. The background was dark, so he was unable to make out the mans face. Just his shoulders down, his hand wresting on Ames's shoulder, his other hand running through her hair as if she were some pet. "I mean she is such a trooper. Stubborn girl to break. You should be proud," the way he said you indicated he was talking to someone in particular. As to who, Winston wasn't sure.

"I mean I should congratulate you. When you pick em you really pick them...Then again...," the mans voice trailed off, as he he leaned down and kept himself level with the side of Ames face, appearing fully from behind. "My sweet Blair is a prime example of that defined picking skills... Wasn't she, Guerrero?"

The mans dark features scowled for a second, before his calm and cool demeanor returned. He caressed Ames's cheek, before nuzzling it with his cheek and smiling. The smile didn't reach his eyes, which were cold and calculating. "Blair was of course prettier and sweeter than miss Ames, but they are both so full of spirit, arn't they?" He licked Ames's neck to her ear, and they could all see the disgust in her weak expression of hatred.

Winston, out of the corner of his eyes, could see the shorter man almost barring his teeth, a sneer of anger and disgust on his lips, his eyes focused on the screen, his jaw clinched and fist clamped. But they were so subtle and to someone who didn't know Guerrero, they would think he was perfectly calm. He was far from it. But keeping up a mask was important to him, and Winston almost felt bad for being able to actually see past it for once.

The man chuckled, before he pushed himself up and away from Ames, his hand continuing to run through her hair. "Did you know she's a screamer?" he asked as if it were a simple, casual, question. "Loud little minx too." Ilsa shuddered and reached for Chances hand and Winston squeezed her shoulder. This was sick.

The image suddenly changed, and Ilsa gave a startled cry and looked away to bury her face against Chance's shoulder. Chance's jaw tightened and Guerrero... Guerrero calmly had his hands on the table and was mashing his teeth together, loud enough to be heard all the way over here. On the screen, Ames was being hit and slapped and touched in a way non of them wanted to see happen to her. Not from some sick man like this.

And yet seeing the fight she continued to unleash, hearing her scream in defiance, brought a small bloom of pride and respect. 'Just keep fighting, kid. Don't let that asshole win,' he silently prayed, as the screen jumped back to Ames and the man sitting in a darkened room... A room that looked annoyingly familiar to him.

"Oh Guerrero you should be so proud of her. She's a strong fighter, she is... But... Every fighter breaks eventually, right?" the man pat Ames on the cheek, before turning back to the camera. "You know I'm glad it was her we got to use. I do feel bad about killing your friend, but miss Ames is proving to be far more entertaining than some ex-cop. Much more fun to play with." Winston scowled and glared at the screen. "I ain't dead yet you animal," Winston growled, as the camera focused out to give a full body shot of the stranger and Ames.

"I think that's enough for them today, right miss Ames? I mean, we don't want to let this episode run to long do we? No no, of course not," he looked at Ames as he spoke, before before turning back to the camera. "You brought all this on her and yourself, Guerrero. My sweet Blair... You ruined her and me. And now I'm going to ruin you and the lovely miss Ames... After I've had some fun of course." He chuckled as if what he had said was funny.

"Until the next episode," and with that, the screen went black, to static, before the disk was spit out. No one said anything. No one moved. They could only stare in horror at the static on the screen.

**o0o**

Ames was numb. She was numb all over. She'd been kicked and slapped and hurt so many times now it was all starting to mesh into one constant numbing affect on her body. Her body, sickeningly enough, had responded to the mans touch and she had came. She was mortified and sickened by her weakness at the moment. All those years with Silas and Kidahi... Had they been for nothing? Had she really learned and gained nothing after all?

"You know this isn't your fault, miss Ames," Elliot whispered softly,as Ames tilted her head up. He was stratling a chair, using the back to lean on. He was still in his tank-top and had discarded his work pants for jeans and his nice shoes for some tennis-shoes. As always he was a picture of calm pose wise... But his eyes and expression was almost angry. He was deep in thought, seeming lost in his mind.

"You know I had a sister," he suddenly sighed. Ames, unable to talk, was unable to voice her uncaring thoughts on his life story. So she was forced to listen as he continued. "My sister... Sweet little Blair... She was my little sister. I loved her dearly and she loved me. We didn't have the best family. My mother and father were always fighting, you see. Father was cheating on mother. We both knew it and so did mother. But they still stayed together. I never understood why til I was older. They did it for us. For the kids..."

He trailed off and Ames hoped that was the end. But of course it wasn't. "She never married after college. She became a nurse. And me? I went to work at dad and grandpas studio," he gestured around the warehouse. "this is all that's left of it now. It was shut-down three years ago. But we had the best TV shows for awhile. Like right now, you're in the bedroom of the Rooster Buckley."

The Rooster Buckley show! That was why the room looked so familiar. It had been a TV show when she was a teen. Her and Brody would watch it every Saturday night together to laugh at Rooster as he dealt, comedic like, with growing up issues that many kids face. It had ended once the actor who played Rooster got to old for the role of a ten-year-old boy and the replacement wasn't the same.

"Blair liked to come see me at the studio. I meet her first two boyfriends once. I hated them. They were only after one thing from her. And she listened when I told her to leave them... But the last one she wouldn't listen. He was dangerous and vile. I could see it! But she wouldn't listen!" His voice was shaking and he was gripping the back of the chair roughly.

"He would get high a lot. Blair would just excuse that he was going through a tough time. She always wanted to see the good in everyone. Wanted to excuse their wrong doings. She was nineteen and innocent... And he was some twenty-one-year-old loser! She deserved better..." Again he trailed off, and Ames watched as he bit as his fist, drawing a small amount of blood.

"He got so high one night... So fucked up, that he stumbled to her apartment where she was staying for college. He broke down her door and was ranting and raving. She tried to calm him down... And that sick fuck... He hit her! He slammed her in the stomach and face... Her roommate called me and I rushed to her... I wanted to kill him. Seeing her nose busted and her holding herself in pain.. It was disgusting!"

Ames could hear the rage dripping like venom from his lips and through his teeth now. "But even... Even after that she wouldn't leave him! I didn't... I didn't understand. She was so smart and kind and she wanted to stay with this man after what he did!... She finally left him though... Only because that son-of-a-bitch once again was so fucked up that he forced himself on her!"

Elliot was breathing heavily and he pushed himself out of his chair and flung it away. "He hurt her! He broke her! Sh-She wasn't the same... A-And he disappeared after that! Just vanished without trying to say sorry for what he'd done! W-We had to put her in a hospital.. S-She was just gone. Wouldn't eat, had nightmares, and never smiled or laughed..." Elliot was pulling at his hair and pacing now. "She died alone and sad and broken! She took her life in that hospital because the pain finally got to her... And it's all his fault! It's all Guerrero's fault!"

Guerrero... What? Ames felt her eyes widen and her mind come to a sharp halt. Guerrero had done this? That wasn't... She'd never even seen him drink anything with sugar, let alone take any drugs! That couldn't be possible. Elliot seemed to be able to read her mind. "Oh I know you probably think Guerrero would never do something so vile, right?" he walked over to stand infront of her, and lowered his face even with hers.

"How much do you really know about that man. Besides that he has a kid. Oh yeah," he chuckled as she stiffened. "I know all about his kid. His ex-wife and all his little flings. I know where he lives. I know where he has his little meetings. I've been trying to track and watch Guerrero for years now. Since my sister took her life. I watched him for years until my plan was full proof and I could strike. I was originally going to take his wife... But then they divorced... Then I thought of his kid... But that wouldn't have felt the same," he locked eyes with hers. "Then you showed up."

Ames wished she could slam him in his face for how close he was to her now. "You showed up and it all became easy... And then you disappeared. I had to wait another five years, but now... I see waiting has its rewards." His usal calm and cool self returned as he pat her cheek.

"I'll let you rest up for awhile. I wouldn't want you too tired for the next shooting of the next episode of our little show for Guerrero." He pat her head and straightened his form, before casually walking off the set, leaving Ame scold and alone to wonder just why she was such a useful target for Guerrero.

**R & R**

**Not much to say, except Oh look, rating change! Cause the dirty will be back!**

**Isn't Elliot so... Idk, what word to use... Pathetic and insane just dont cover it, do they? Hurm... What a dude.**

**Sorry if the torture/attack on Ames comes off as suckish. I'm trying . This is my first fic with something like this happening, so my experience is limited to what I feel sounds right, but that could mean shit ya know? Siiiiiigghhh. Writing. It can be such a pain.**

**Also a fun note. Archie and Eddie'slast namemeans Hippopatamus in German xD**


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